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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS: 



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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




KATHARINE VON BORA. (Page 31.) 



WOMAN 



EEFOEMATIOK 



BY 

EMMA LOUISE PARRY. 



•)t>Y% 



PHILADELPHIA : 

LUTHERAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY. 

1882. 



r 



-i 






COPYRIGHT, 1882. 



DEDICATION. 



TO THE MEMBERS OF THE 

WOMAN'S HOME AND FOREIGN MISSIONARY SOCIETY 

OF THE 

EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN CHURCH OF AMERICA, 

THESE SKETCHES 

OF THE WOMEN WHO NOBLY BORE 
THEIR PART IN THE REFORMATION OF THE CHURCH, 

ARE DEDICATED, 

WITH THE HOPE THAT THEY MAY INSPIRE A NEW LOVE 
AND ZEAL FOR THE CHURCH. 



PREFACE. 



The following sketches, many of which have ap- 
peared in the Lutheran Observer, do not aim at histor- 
ical research, nor do they lay claim to minute, critical 
investigation. In the labor required to collect the ma- 
terial, the delving into old books, and other tongues, 
accuracy has been carefully maintained, but there has 
been no attempt to add to historical lore. The aim of 
the work has lain in the desire to speak for woman. In 
the Nineteenth Century, when the labor and power of 
woman is meeting its highest recognition, a truth of 
acknowledgment never before acceded — in such an age 
it is well to look into the past, into the great crises of the 
ages, and bring to light the service performed by her 
then, which has been hidden, obscured, unnoted, and 
uncared for. It is due to the women of the neglected 
age, that we, of a broader time, render them the debt of 
honor denied them in their lives. This tribute we bring, 
and breathe into this aim the ardent desire that such a 
(v) 



vi' PREFACE. 

contemplation, such a view of the brave heart of woman 
in the time of tempest, may give strength and courage 
to all hearts called to endure suffering or trial in the 
conflict of the world, which everywhere tries the heart 
and reins of humanity. E. L. P. 

Cincinnati \ 0. t 1882 % 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

I. Woman in the Reformation 9 

II. Margaretha or Gretchen Luther 14 

III. Ursula Cotta 20 

IV. The Nuns of Nimpstch 26 

V. Katharine von Bora 31 

VI. Catherine Krapp 40 

VII. Anna Reinhard 46 

VIII. Idelette de Bures 53 

IX. The Monastery of Konigsfeldt 59 

X. Clara May and the Dominicans 63 

XI. Anne Askew 67 

XII. Elizabeth of Brandenburg 73 

XIII. The Genevese Women 80 

XIV. Elizabeth of Brunswick 87 

XV. The Three Catherines 94 

XVI. Paul and Claudine Levet 99 

XVII. Marguerite de Valois 105 

XVIII. Renee, Duchess of Ferrara 120 

XIX. OLYMPIA MORATA 126 

(vii) 



viii CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

XX. Jeanne D'Albret 135 

XXI. The Women of Spain 145 

XXII. Leanor de Cineros 152 

XXIII. Maria de Bohorques 160 

XXIV. Mother and Daughter 167 

XXV. Charlotte de Bourbon 172 

XXVI. In the Netherlands 18 1 

XXVII. Katherine Willoughby 190 

XXVIII. The Modern Reformation 198 



WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 



i. 

"Of writing many books there is no end." Has 
the truth of this aphorism ever come within your 
experience ? Have you ever realized ' the depth of 
meaning contained in this saying of the wise man ? 
Any one standing in the midst of a vast library, and 
glancing around, seeing volume upon volume lining 
the walls of the spacious building from dome to base, 
can feel that there is truth in Solomon's words. 
Every one having a sincere desire for learning, being 
unable to gratify that desire, and seeing how impossi- 
ble it is to avail himself of the much-longed-for 
knowledge, doubtless has felt with deeper feeling this 
truth. Most especially, however, do we enter into 
the true spirit and full significance of the aphorism, 
when, with earnest and burning desire, we are striv- 
ing after knowledge. After much application, labor, 
time, weariness, we have gained a little — an insignifi- 
cant portion — and we stretch forward with intense 
longing to gather more. There is too much before 
(9) 



10 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

us ; life is too short for the acquisition of it. The 
utmost that we can gain is but a trifle ; and we feel 
with Newton that our knowledge is but a pebble upon 
the sea-shore, while the great ocean of undiscovered 
truth lies before and beyond us. With man's days 
as a hand -breadth, it is useless to attempt it ; and we 
exclaim with Solomon, from the depths of the heart 
and understanding, " Of writing many books there is 
no end." 

The maxim might be changed and still utter a 
truth — " Of writing much of men there is no end." 
How familiar to us are the titles — " Illustrious Men," 
"Distinguished Men," " Men of Fame," " Book of 

Heroes," "Life of ." A vast multitude, until 

we stand in amazement at the heroes who have walked 
the earth. 

Thus runs the catalogue, and we find that the 
temple of fame is overflowing with male aspirants. 
Innumerable are the masculine worthies who would 
"scale Olympus and take their seats among the 
gods." The sons of Anak are brought forward into 
the arena to the public gaze; their stature proclaimed, 
their proportions celebrated. But, where are the 
daughters ? Are they less comely, that they are kept 
in seclusion, debarred from high places — that the 
door to fame is shut to them, and labeled "forbidden 
paths?" Have none of them wandered into these 
forbidden ways, and unbidden boldly taken their 



WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 11 

seats in high places? After some search, we find 
that there are a few favored ones, who by desperate 
efforts have leaped beyond the prescribed limits, and 
stand side by side with their sterner mates. How- 
ever, their place has been gained by a struggle : no 
commonplace heroism or genius elevated them. In 
war, in science, in government, in literature, they 
were, of necessity, obliged to excel the excellent of 
men to obtain recognition. Joan d'Arc was obliged 
to doff her maidenly habits and station, to brave 
more than the bravest, to partake of the supernatural, 
to win her fame. Catharine Herschel outstepped her 
contemporaries in discoveries, and so earned her 
celebrity. The Shaksperean genius of George Eliot 
could not be denied, and her worth is acceded to. 
Elizabeth Browning excelled all modern poets, and 
took her seat on Parnassus among the highest. A 
king's place has been successfully filled by a female, 
and even in our own day we have one who has added 
Empress to the title. 

A woman's work must generally excel, must be 
something more than ordinary, to win a man's fame. 
Deeds of men, the world over, are learned and conned 
by rote. In war, in peace, in contention, in quie- 
tude, the silent work of woman is oftentimes un- 
marked. 

We have heard the chimes ring out on the silent 
air at night, and their music has spoken to us. We 



12 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

hear the loud, clear tones of the main bells, chiming 
a tune, while underneath it all we can catch the har- 
mony of the lower-toned ones, an undercurrent of 
melody, that has an indirect effect upon the louder 
tones, the combination making the sweet music. In 
life, the work of man is the loud, distinct, clear tones 
that readily attract attention — the life of woman is 
the undercurrent ; yet both are essential to make 
life's harmony. Often the loud notes only catch the 
ear, while the low-toned symphony is disregarded. 
Thus it is in the world's history, in all ages, all coun- 
tries ; the life of man, being more public, more easily 
attracts notice; while the work of woman, in the 
crises of the world's history, is left in obscurity. 

Let us confine our attention to one great epoch, 
and listen to the soft cadences of the undercurrent. 
To the Protestant Church the Reformation is a birth- 
day — a natal day proclaiming the new birth of truth 
and freedom — it is a period upon which the mind 
loves to linger, and to which the heart turns with joy. 
Its annals are familiar. Luther holds a dear spot in 
every heart. Melanchthon, Zwingli, Calvin, arouse 
admiration and kindle enthusiasm ; Erasmus and Eck 
awaken contrary feelings. These are household 
names ; even the children of the family recognize 
them, and catching the spirit of their elders, learn to 
love them. But how many are there who ever speak 
of Katharine von Bora ; who grow eloquent in speak- 



WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 13 

ing of Anna Reinhard ; who recall with love, sorrow, 
admiration, the mention of Margaret de Vaiois? 
These names seem unfamiliar to us ; and yet these 
noble women enacted their part in the Reformation 
heroically, earnestly, womanly and patiently. When- 
ever the trial came to them, they did not falter, but 
met it with fortitude. As Luther was God's greater 
light, so these were the lesser lights, that shone not 
one whit less steadfastly or clearly. Their work 
should be more widely known, more frequently 
spoken of; they should be recognized as helpers in 
the strife, and loved for their characters and influ- 
ence. Their lives should be more familiar to us, their 
deeds as family stories, their influence upon the Refor- 
mation seen, and their whole character and place in 
this Bible revival of the sixteenth century should be 
known ; and wherever the story of the Reformation 
is spread, their deeds should be told as memorials of 
them. 



II. 

MARGARETHA OR GRETCHEN LUTHER. 

The character of the mother of Martin Luther is 
not one to awaken our affection and love. She does 
not come within the pale of our sympathy and arouse 
feelings of fellowship. Her qualities are not those 
gentle, womanly ones, that meet a tender response 
within us. Yet for her firmness, force and strength 
of character, endurance and unswerving devotion to 
duty, we must feel admiration. It seems necessary 
that Margaretha should be spoken of in connection 
with the Reformation, not so much for any work, but 
for indirect influence upon it by forming the character 
of the great Reformer. It is a well-known fact that 
the days of infancy and childhood are the formation 
period of character. The influence exerted upon one 
at this period, when one is susceptible and easily 
moulded, affects the whole after-life. So that to 
Margaretha' s influence we may ascribe some of the 
praise for those sterling qualities which we admire in 
the hero of the Reformation. 

Margaretha Lindeman was the daughter of a trades- 
man in Eisenach. Having reached the age of 
maidenhood, she became desirous of going with her 
(14) 



MARGARETHA OR GRETCHEN LUTHER. 15 

companions into service, as was the general custom in 
those days. Accordingly, Greta was sent to the baths 
at Moerha. We cannot picture her beauty, as there 
are no records left to us of it ; and when we are told 
that she was called "the pride of Moerha," we know 
not whether her beauty of face or form were referred 
to, or her winning and graceful manner. To these 
baths came a sturdy young man named Hans Luther. 
They met, loved, and were married.' They settled 
for a time at Eisenach, where Margaret won many 
friends ; and after a few years they removed to Eisle- 
ben, where Martin was born. That Margaretha was 
a good neighbor can be seen by the reception given 
her by her old friends when on a visit to Eisenach. 
All the village dames flock to see her, and before she 
descends from the wagon overwhelm her with cries, 
among which we distinguish "my best true friend," 
1 ' my own neighbor, " " cousin Gretha, " " sweet- 
heart." She was called upright and pious, and every- 
where connected with her name, was spoken of her 
modesty, fear of God, and spirit of prayer. In the 
country for miles around she was the model maiden, 
wife and mother. 

Luther was born in 1483, and Frau Luther's first 
thought was concerning baptism. So, like Hannah 
with the young Samuel, she took Luther to St. Peter's 
church at Eisleben, and consecrated the child to 
God. Even in his earliest years, she had great hopes 



16 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

and fears for this, her favorite child. He was so 
different from the rest, she saw in him promise of 
something unusual, the embryo of future greatness. 
Many, many times, as she and Hans were returning 
home from some neighboring town in the wagon, or 
from the woods with backs laden down with fagots, 
would she speak of Martin. She would tell him all 
her heart's longing and sole desire for Martinchen. 
Her aim for him was high — what she considered the 
highest position and work in life — that of a priest, a 
holy father. Her mind was filled with pictures of 
Martin in cowl and gown, reading Latin at the altar, 
and serving in the cathedral. Little sympathy did 
she get from the honest and abrupt Hans. To her 
idea he was strenuously opposed. He had read 
Wickliffe's heretical treatise, "On the Truth and 
Meaning of the Bible," and had imbibed some facts 
that made him adverse to all such propositions of 
Frau Luther's. Her earnest entreaties were met not 
only with coldness, but oftentimes with harshness. 
Hans Luther looked beyond the outer symbols of 
honor among the monks and saw the unholiness be- 
neath, and his honest, stern nature severely con- 
demned it ; and in his gruff manner he rebuked such 
hopes for his son, silencing his eager wife. 

In the home of the Luthers religious instruction was 
carefully attended to. The children were obliged to 
learn the catechism and prayers ; hymns, and worship 



MARGARETHA OR GRETCHEN LUTHER. 17 

of various kinds, were customary in the household. 
With their children they were very severe, oftentimes 
cruel. The slightest offense reaped heavy punishment , 
and no offenses were passed by without punishment. 
From Martin Luther himself we have an account of 
the manner in which his parents treated misdeeds : 
" My parents treated me so harshly that I became 
very timid. My mother one day chastised me so 
severely about a nut that the blood came. They 
seriously thought that they were doing right ; but they 
could not distinguish character — which, however, is 
very necessary in order to know when and where and 
how chastisement should be inflicted. ' ' Greta excuses 
herself for this severity to her son, and says she would 
teach him not to be a thief, and a small sin punished 
will prevent a larger one. Although she herself so 
cruelly chastised Martin, yet her heart would bleed 
when Hans' cruelty would be shown toward him. 
After such punishment she would go to the child and 
soothe and comfort him ; yet during the infliction she 
would never interfere. Although the agonized chil- 
dren would beseech and beg her to speak and stay 
their father's anger, she would sternly refuse, and 
reprimand them for their request. Her womanly love 
and tender feelings were choked down, repressed, 
stifled, by the strength of her convictions of duty. 
Her affections were not allowed to rule ; and although 
her heart spoke and pleaded, yet she placed duty 



18 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

above them, and courageously bore her secret pain 
and longings, and appeared stern, cold, and unrelent- 
ing. 

What effect had this upon the Reformer? You may 
say, "No good — rather harm." You may think it 
did him this injury — it gave him a timidity that caused 
him to start at every noise, a fear that led him to 
hide in the chimney-corner at every footstep. Yes; 
but this fear wore away under kindlier treatment, and 
left but the effect intended — a hatred of sin in its 
lightest forms, an intolerance of hypocrisy, vice, or 
untruth. It gave him the sternness that enabled him 
to carry out, without yielding an iota, his great ideas ; 
a fortitude that helped him bear all reproaches, scorn, 
sorrow and troubles that afterward visited him. It 
imparted to his character that strength, force and 
gravity which call forth our highest admiration — an 
admiration akin to hero-worship. 

Do not let us condemn too severely this apparent 
harshness of Margaretha Luther. She lived in the 
days when feudalism had not yet been dispersed by the 
Bible light of the sixteenth century. The feudal sys- 
tem extended not only to cities and villages, but to 
families. The children were in bondage — as vassals 
— to their parents. Obedience was required as a 
fealty ; homage was exacted as from an inferior to a 
superior, and duty was a stern necessity flowing from 
power, not from love. The bond between parent and 



MARGARETHA OR GRETCHEN LUTHER. 



19 



child was one of servitude, not of filial obedience and 
love. Let us condemn the time as the cause of the 
deficiency in Luther's parents, and again be thankful 
that the gloom of the middle ages is dispersed ; that 
the Great Father of all has restored true feelings, not 
only between parent and child, but between man and 
man, and has revealed to us the true brotherhood of 
the race. 




III. 

URSULA COTTA. 

Can you fancy Ursula Cotta as Luther saw her 
on the memorable morning three hundred years ago ? 
It was a raw, cold morning, and for many hours the 
band of students had traversed the streets of Eisenach, 
singing from door to door, hoping thus to procure 
their daily bread. Turned away from many houses, 
oftentimes with rude words, tired in body, hungry, 
sick at heart, at last the weary band stopped before 
the house of Conrad Cotta, the rich burgher. Many 
a time had they been there before ; never had they 
left in sorrow or hunger. Here they always met kind 
looks, cheering words, and substantial assistance from 
the " pious Shunammite'' who dwelt within. To- 
day they looked for a similar reception, and began 
their carol. So sweetly did their fresh young voices 
ring out with the beautiful hymns, one would not 
have imagined that they came from aching hearts. 
Anxiously they awaited some signs of relief. Now, 
their prayer is answered, for the door opens and the 
good woman appears. A saint to them she seems ; 
not one with eyes and hands uplifted to heaven un- 
caring for earthly woes, such as they have seen in the 
(20) 



URSULA COTTA. 21 

church, but a true one, more worthy of worship, with 
a heart overflowing with pity and charity ; a saint 
with a human smile, hands outstretched with human 
assistance, and eyes and smile that speak to the human 
heart and cheer it. The expectant band are not re- 
pulsed, but receive their customary greeting and 
assistance. 

As Ursula is about to re-enter the house, she catches 
sight of Martin Luther — her kinsman — looking so 
wan and feeble that all her motherly pity is aroused. 
" Poor Martinchen," she says, and taking him by the 
hand, leads him into the house. The kind act came 
not one moment too soon, for the boy had scarcely 
crossed the threshold before he fell fainting at her 
feet. As she hovers over him, ministering to him 
with tenderness, anxiety and gentleness, a new reso- 
lution takes root in her pitying heart, a resolution 
that will give the little street-singer a home of love 
and comfort, and which will affect his character and 
after life. When Martin recovers, what a blessed 
vision greets his eyes ! A warm, cheerful, home-like 
room, kind voices, loving smiles. Here is a matronly 
little dame with silvery hair shining from beneath the 
snowy whiteness of the linen " kopflappen," with 
brown eyes that have in them the true mother-light, 
and rosy cheeks that are dimpled with the sweetest of 
smiles. In her hearty, cheery way, she bids him cast 
away his cares, his anxieties, and all those things that 



22 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

disturb him, and begin a happier life in this, his future 
home. Soon Conrad Cotta, the husband, arrives. 
He is rich, and can well afford to give the young stu- 
dent the much-needed home, so he readily accedes to 
the good wife's proposal. Thus Martin Luther is 
received into the Cotta family, where he remains four 
years. 

Human nature is to a greater or less degree de- 
pendent for its development upon outward circum- 
stances and influences. A nature accustomed only to 
the stinging blasts and bitter winds, only to coldness 
and darkness, is warped. Those qualities alone are 
called forth which combat these elements, and all the 
kindly, loving, generous part of that nature — because 
the warm beams of the sun have never called it forth 
— dies. A nature which has never been called to 
conflict with wintry and adverse winds, that has 
always existed in midsummer, is one-sided. It lacks 
those sterner qualities which are developed by adver- 
sity. So, in human as in material nature, we need 
the same element to perfect the creation — darkness 
and light, summer and winter, sunshine and storm. 
Under these circumstances alone does the creature 
come forth as God designed it — perfected fully. 
Thus God was preparing the character of Martin 
Luther to become the leader in the great reform. 
His childhood was dark and bitter, and had it con- 
tinued so his natural tendency to melancholy would 



URSULA COTTA, 23 

have been cherished, and all that bright sunshine deep 
in his heart would have been quenched. He was to 
have endurance brought forth by hardship, so that he 
could bear the trial of the contest, and at the same 
time, all the bright, hopeful, glad nature was cher- 
ished, and thus he breathed courage and cheer and 
joy to all those tried ones who looked to him for 
help and glad encouragement. 

A new life dawned on Martin Luther upon his 
entrance into the Cotta family. Until now his youth 
had been one of suffering, privation, and hardship. 
He had passed through darkness and was coming to 
the light. God was bringing him into perfect man- 
hood. His graver, sterner nature had been devel- 
oped ; it was now time for the brighter part. Luther's 
early life, although it ingrafted lasting qualities of 
great worth into his nature, gave him also some 
which, unless taken away, would be very injurious and 
unhappy. These were but temporary, and under the 
care of the. watchful, " verstandige" Ursula Cotta, 
they disappeared. She knew the longings and pains 
of his young heart. She offered him sympathy and 
love, and soothed its aching, and satisfied its yearn- 
ing. He met no repulses, no rebukes, but ready 
answers to all his inquiries, responses to all his eager 
questionings. 

Luther's early training had imparted to him a 
shrinking and a timidity. He was silent, morose, 



24 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

and moody. Ursula Cotta, with her warm, bright 
cheerfulness, her sunshiny happiness, changed this 
dark spirit. She dissipated the gloom, and called to 
light all the hidden brightness of his nature ; and it 
is no longer silent, solitary Martinchen in the corner, 
but Martin the leader in the children's games, their 
songs, their conversations. The change was wrought 
by the quick insight, marvelous tact, and careful 
attention of Frau Cotta. She saw, from his entrance 
into her home, that he must be moved from his 
melancholy, 'and she bravely undertook the work. 
She had long homely talks with him, inviting his 
confidence, appreciating it, and interesting herself in 
all his thoughts. She found out his love for music, 
and, cultivating the taste, opened new joys to him. 
She gave him a flute, which he soon learned to play, 
when she would sing as he accompanied her, and so 
many happy hours they spent together. He would 
confide to her his hopes, his sorrows, his plans, and, 
looking into her earnest, loving eyes, would always 
find sympathy. Then the evenings were such quiet, 
peaceful ones. Ursula would draw Martin and her 
own little son close to her and tell them stories — 
generally religious — in her pretty, interesting manner ; 
then, laying a hand on each head, would stroke their 
hair fondly, raise their heads, and kiss each good- 
night. All those latent, loving qualities were aroused 
in Martin's heart by such tenderness, and his whole 



URSULA COTTA. 25 

nature was softened. In this cheerful home, amid the 
familiar household talks, the music, prayers, and all- 
pervading love, Martin dropped the old manner, with 
its timidity and silence, and awakening to the new 
life of love and sympathy, became fearless, joyous, 
open-hearted, and happy. 

What a truly blessed life was that within the 
burgher Cotta's house ! Here there was ever an at- 
mosphere of love, where nothing could exist but hap- 
piness. Ursula was the good angel that imparted this 
wondrous charm to the household. A true woman, 
with delicate insight, sympathies, tenderness, com- 
passion, and all those womanly traits that ensure hap- 
piness to those around. Martin knew and acknowl- 
edged how much he owed to this kind Christian 
woman's influence. Of her he has said, " There is 
nothing sweeter on earth than the heart of a woman 
in which pity dwells." In Ursula Cotta's heart it 
had a large place, and with it, as we have seen, love, 
tenderness, sympathy. We love her for her very 
lovableness — she inspires us to it — we cannot help it. 
As her heart opened in love to all, so must all hearts 
open with love to her. 



IV. 

THE NUNS OF NIMPSTCH. 

Near Grimma, in Nimpstchen, in the year 1523, 
stood the Cistercian convent. It had existed for a 
long period of time, and many zealots had lived, 
wrought and passed away within its walls. Here, 
many noble families sent their daughters to live what 
they thought to be the holiest of all lives. Many, 
many were the holy sisters who had passed, within 
these walls, their lives of penance and self-abnegation. 
Here, for years and years, the silent nuns had wor- 
shiped, suffered and died, without any care for aught 
beyond their confines. 

In the first quarter of the sixteenth century, how- 
ever, a change came over the hitherto quiet and 
peaceful convent. At this time, there were among 
the sisterhood several young women with active 
minds ever ready to discern truth, and true hearts 
willing to follow it. They were enthusiasts, with 
minds open and fresh to receive impressions. They 
had been sent here by their parents at an early age 
before they had reason or discretion enough to choose 
for themselves. They entered into the true spirit of 
the Order. Day by day, they attended masses and 
(26) * 



THE NUNS OF NIMPSTCH. 27 

matins, told their beads, repeated their aves, chanted 
their missal, and did penance for their sins. Often 
severe chastisement, self-inflicted, would follow the 
wandering thoughts ; for their restless minds would, 
despite restraint, wander to the world beyond the 
gray convent walls. 

Quiet, peaceful, happy hours too, they had, over 
their embroidery and sewing, while one of their 
number read aloud. Works of charity filled in their 
time, and many were the blessings that arose from the 
sick and the destitute as the holy sisters walked among 
them. Among the books that came from Eisenach, 
from Cotta's printing-press, were several translations 
of Dr. Luther's. The attention of the young nuns 
was arrested ; they re-read them ; they were wonder- 
stricken , doubtful ; finally they were overflowing with 
enthusiasm for the Doctor of Wittenberg, and con- 
vinced of his truth. What he wrote must be true ; 
their reason and judgment confirmed his words ; and 
surely these passages from the New Testament came 
from God. 

O, then, how far astray from his teaching have been 
their lives ! What good has been done by their pen- 
ance, scourges, and chastisements ? They read — there 
is freedom in forgiveness of sins ; salvation is free to 
all; works are dead, it is faith that justifies \ self can do 
nothing, it is God through Christ and not we our- 
selves. All this is new to them. Next comes Luther's 



28 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

treatise upon monasteries. This is another revelation 
to them. They had lived with the conviction that a 
life within the sacred walls of the convent was most 
pleasing, most holy in the sight of God — for had they 
not wedded the church, and cast all else aside ? But 
here comes Dr. Luther, telling them a life in a con- 
vent is not the true Christian life ; that their lives are 
no purer, no better, no holier than those of ordinary 
mortals ; that the life of a true follower is not one of 
seclusion, not a fleeing from temptations, but to bear 
up under them, to withstand them — to stand in the 
midst of the world and yet apart from it. The nuns 
of Nimpstch were awakened to new ideas of life. 
They caught the truth, they felt it, they determined 
to act upon it. The serenity of the convent was 
broken up, for the young nuns speedily made known 
their belief, and told the truth to their sisters. The 
older ones were unconvinced ; they looked with sor- 
row, even with hatred, upon the young heretics — with 
derision called them the "Lutheran sisters." More 
books were received at Nimpstch, and deeper and 
warmer became their enthusiasm for Dr. Luther and 
his words. With this came also a distaste for the 
convent life — nay, it became hateful to them. Their 
bonds chafed them, their duties were unendurable, 
and their ever-present thought was to break their 
chains and get beyond their prison walls. They 
became refractory — refused to perform their religious 



THE NUNS OF NIMPSTCH. 29 

duties ; no more invocations to the saints, no nightly 
vigils, fasts, or scourges. Faith, and a life conformed 
to that faith, was the idea which possessed them. 

Finally, they resolved to use some means of escape, 
as all their letters to friends and relatives brought 
them no hope of release. Instead of sympathy and a 
welcome back to home, there were indignation, 
threats, and a denial of all assistance. They wrote 
to Dr. Luther, informing him of their troubles and 
their desire to escape, and asking aid. 

This letter brought about the desired result. A 
night was appointed, and within the cloister the young 
nuns were preparing to leave their narrow world and 
enter into the trials of an untried greater one. Night 
came, and the nine women were in waiting before the 
high stone walls. Master Leonard Koppe, of Torgau, 
and Wolfgang Tomitzsch, were ready to assist them ; 
and soon they stood upon the ground, without the 
convent, free from its forms and duties — free to wor- 
ship as their hearts directed. They entered a covered 
wagon, filled with herring barrels— wherein, in case 
of necessity, they might hide — and drove away from 
bondage. At length they arrived at the old Augus- 
tinian convent, where their hearts were rejoiced to 
behold face to face their beloved Doctor Luther. 

" The livery of the nun " was laid aside, and these 
courageous, truthful, noble women are ready to do 
whatsoever is required of them by their new religion. 



30 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Several persons kindly received them into their 
houses, and soon all of them were settled in Witten- 
berg. After the lapse of time, some were sent for by 
their relenting friends, some were married. 

These nine nuns, who thus with courage and a 
brave independence shook off the unnatural bonds 
of the Roman church, and joyfully encountered any 
trial that would open the way to a true life in Christ 
— having found the truth which makes men free — 
were Magdalena Staupitz, Elizabeth Kanitz, Eva 
Gross, Eva and Margaret Schonfeld, Laneta Golis, 
Margaret and Katherine Zeschau, and Katharine von 
Bora. Independence of thought even amidst such 
thraldom and freedom of will and action, could only 
result from strong character, and a deep firm convic- 
tion of truth. The entrance of truth into the heart 
gives that power and strength of character. 




KATHARINE VON BORA. 

We have seen the influence of Margaretha and 
Ursula, in forming the character of Luther. We 
have now to see what influence was being exerted 
upon him while he was moving the world with his 
theses, denunciations and doctrines, and shaking the 
foundation of the Roman See, calling forth papal 
bulls, anathemas, maledictions and pamphlets by the 
score. 

Among the nuns who stole away from Nimpstch, 
was Katharine von Bora. She was born in Saxony 
in 1499, and belonged to one of the noble families of 
the land. At the age of sixteen, she was sent to the 
convent, where she remained in comparative happi- 
ness for several years. We already know how that 
life was cast aside, and Katharine became an inmate 
in the house of the burgomaster of Wittenberg. Lu- 
ther found more trouble in his matrimonial schemes 
for the grave and dignified Katharine than he had 
had with the other nuns. She was the noblest of 
them all. Although not beautiful, yet there was 
majesty in her manner ; earnestness and expression 
in her dark eyes; character in the large, but firm 
(31) 



32 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

mouth; and intellect in the high, smooth forehead. 
Until more acquainted with her, she seemed cold and 
reserved — so much so, that the great Doctor himself 
was awed ; but after having won her friendship there 
was seen a warmth of heart, a congeniality and kind, 
open winning manner, that was particularly engaging. 
Jeremy Baumgartner was the first aspirant to the love 
of this daughter of the house of Bora. But such 
honor was not for him, nor for Dr. Glatz, whom 
Luther highly recommended. Katharine was not 
quite as frank as Priscilla, the Puritan maiden, for 
she did not say directly, "Why don't you speak for 
yourself, Martin : ' ' but she communicated the fact 
that the Doctor himself was her favorite, to his friend 
Amsdorf, who was not long in producing order out of 
the confusion. 

On the 13th of June, 1525, Luther, accompanied 
by his friends Pomeranus, Lucas Cranach, and the 
lawyer Apell, entered the house of Amsdorf, and 
with little ceremony, but great brevity and abruptness, 
he asked the astonished Katharine to become his wife. 
They were immediately betrothed, and before the day 
had closed, Luther and Katharine, monk and nun, 
were married. He took his bride, the dignified, 
graceful Katharine, to the old Augustinian cloister to 
make a home for him ; for deep within his heart there 
was the true German love and longing for a home 
and fireside to which he could claim exclusive right. 



KATHARINE VON BORA. 33 

A new life begins now in the old monastery, and the 
dark gloom and silence of the cloisters are dispelled 
and banished by the cheerfulness and brightness 
which the presence of Katharine diffuses. The in- 
visible shades of the departed monks, were they able 
to look in upon this happy domestic life, would have 
been filled with holy horror and repeated a dozen — 
nay, a score of dozens — of aves and pater-nosters for 
their former brother, for both these who had once 
vowed celibacy. 

The life of Martin and Ketha, (as he loved to call 
her) approached very near to the ideal of married 
life. When Martin Luther married, there was not 
the deep, warm, earnest love for Katharine that she 
gave him ; he said at the time — " I am not on fire 
with love;" but it came, and as the years passed, it 
became deeper, warmer, more earnest — the full, strong 
love such as a heart like that of Martin Luther, with 
his great strong nature, is alone capable of holding. 
Katharine had a firm, strong character; she was capa- 
ble of supporting and helping in trials, not sinking 
beneath them and proving a burden. She had a 
quick, understanding mind, and could readily appre- 
ciate the thoughts of the great Doctor, although not 
able to pursue them to the depth of their meaning. 
She was warmly interested in all his work, and by 
her interest and enthusiasm increased that of Luther. 
She helped him, as far as she was able, in his intel- 



34 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

lectual pursuits, by reading to him and writing for 
him.. She relieved him of many duties, in order 
that his precious time might be devoted to the cause 
for which he was born. She carried on all his cor- 
respondence, when capable ; and those letters that she 
could not arrange herself, she kept him from forget- 
ting. No household affairs were allowed to trouble 
him, for Ketha had great managing abilities. All the 
financial affairs of the house were well regulated, and 
without a thought by the master of it. The farm at 
Zolsdorf, which Martin had given to his wife, was 
kept in excellent condition ; buildings were erected, 
' the land was tilled and improved, and everything 
done by the supervision of the wife of Dr. Luther. 

But not only were the outward affairs kept in this 
flourishing condition, not only was Madam Luther a 
financier and manager, but within the house there 
was a home. Here she was the tender, loving wife, 
the wise and good mother. Here all the gentler 
womanly qualities of her nature shone forth — here 
she was the "perfect woman nobly planned," one to 
comfort, soothe and sympathize. She loved to make 
the home cheerful and happy, to aid her husband by 
making his surroundings bright, so that no anxieties 
or worriments should disturb his work; but that 
when his aching, weary brain sought relief, it could 
be found at the peaceful fireside. 

A most beautiful picture of domestic happiness is 



KATHARINE VON BORA. 35 

seen in the home of the Luthers. We catch a glimpse 
of another feature of Martin Luther's wonderful 
nature. In the public life, before the diets and 
councils, we see him firm — even stubborn — unyield- 
ing, inflexible and stern. Our admiration and rever- 
ence are awakened. At the home in Wittenberg we 
see tenderness and gentleness ; a deeply warm loving 
heart ; and a charm of pathos and sympathy is 
thrown over his nature, subduing all harshness. 
This awakens our love, and so all the feelings that 
reveal a hero to us are aroused, and we look upon 
Martin Luther as such. 

Katharine showed a tact in adapting herself to the 
mood of her associate, so that she was always compan- 
ionable to him. When he was heart -sick with the 
severe trials and bitter invectives that were poured 
upon him, it was her comfort that soothed him. 
When fatigued and downcast, she would sit at his 
side, sewing or embroidering his picture, and speak 
healing words to him — verses from the Scriptures that 
were as balm to his ruffled spirit. She would turn 
his thoughts from the grave and serious, by asking 
him questions — often amusing, with the greatest sim- 
plicity and naivete. She was a good listener, and 
would interestedly listen to any subject that he pre- 
ferred talking upon. Together they worked in love, 
for the sick and the poor. 

Oftentimes the monastery would bear semblance to 



36 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

a hospital, for the sick and the poor ever met kind- 
ness from its inmates. Friends came to visit them, 
and after being led through the garden by Dr. Luther 
(who displayed with pride Ketha's vegetables and 
flowers), and having enjoyed supper under the trees, 
the company would have music before they left the 
Wittenberg convent. Every one praised the domestic 
happiness, and acknowledged that it had been well 
for Martin Luther to marry. 

Looking at the results of that union, we see that it 
was, and concur in the opinion of those friends of 
Luther's in the sixteenth century. A life filled — as 
his was — with cares, anxieties, and dangers, needed 
sympathy and outside enjoyment, to sustain and 
refresh it. It would have been hard for the Reformer 
had he had no bright hours to make him forget his 
anguish, and strengthen him for greater trials, nor 
would his work have been so effectual. That well of 
tenderness and love in his nature which his domestic 
life reveals, would never have been known. And so 
this marriage, which the whole Catholic world cried 
out upon and pronounced cursed, proved blessed, 
and brought much good to the Reformation ; and so 
to the Christian world, not only down to the present 
time, but throughout years to come, it will live. 

But the peaceful, unbroken life at the monastery 
was often disturbed. Martin Luther would be obliged 
to go forth into the world, meet his opponents, and 



KATHARINE VON BORA. 37 

cope with them. Many letters were interchanged. 
From these letters we see another phase of Martin's 
many-sided character. Here he displays a genial, 
good-humored, playful, fun-loving spirit, which has 
before been entirely hidden under his austerity. 

Here we see how strongly he was attached to his 
wife, home, and children. Kindly he writes to his 
beloved Ketha, laughing at her fears for his safety, 
playfully chiding her for her loneliness, and signing 
himself "thy old lover." Truly, although the god 
Peitho was not with him in his earlier days, now he 
imparted to him the "speech of love." That Katha- 
rine von Bora still retained her dignity is apparent, 
for in these letters she is addressed as "Mea domina 
Ketha," " Doctress Luther," "My lord Kate," "Sir 
Kate," etc. Not only letters, but packages, medi- 
cines, and pictures, did the careful wife send to him 
to show her solicitude and love. But the forebodings 
of Katharine were realized at last, and Martin Luther 
returned no more to his beloved Wittenberg home. 

Did no clouds invade their happy household ? — was 
there no dissonance nor discord in the family? 
There may have been — humanum est err are, and we 
are of the earth, earthy. Whatever were the shadows, 
they are unknown, entirely obscured by the sunshine 
of their everyday life. Many of the Wittenbergers 
found fault with the Doctor's wife on account of her 
haughty spirit. It was urged against her that she was 



38 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

proud. Yet, how could she u^ell avoid it? Was not 
her husband Martin Luther ? Was it not a commend- 
able thing in her to take pride in that fact ? 

Luther himself has given us the highest praise for 
Katharine von Bora. Thinking of her and his happy 
home, he writes: "The greatest gift of God is a 
pious, amiable spouse, who fears God, loves her home, 
and with whom one can live in perfect peace and 
confidence. ' ' After his death, in his will, were found 
words of approval that must have been precious to 
her sorrowing heart : ' ' My Ketha has always been a 
gentle, pious, and faithful wife to me." 

We will not follow her, through the seven years of 
trial after his death, until she broke the bonds of 
earth. Suffice to say that in the severest trials of 
poverty, persecution, and loneliness, she still main- 
tained that womanly dignity and heroism which 
belonged to her — which was inherent in her nature. 

It is a sad thing to know that the world quickly 
forgot its debt to the great Reformer, and that no 
response met the pathetic appeals that came again 
and again from the widow of Martin Luther. Sad it 
is that she who had cheered one who has brought 
cheer to the world, found none to cheer in those 
years of poverty, flight, and uninterrupted calamity ! 

It is not alone because of the fact that Katharine 
von Bora was the wife of the leader of the Reforma- 
tion, that she is given historic notice. Independent 



KATHARINE VON BORA. 39 

of this, powerful as it is, she has earned a high place 
among the world's renowned ones, by her own indi- 
vidual, strong character — her own bold, eventful, in- 
fluential life. She combined the work of the one at 
the fireside — inspiring hope and courage to the hero — 
and the suffering of that great company of women 
whose life was cast in a time when turmoil and trial 
brought to them a thousand distresses and sorrows. 
Katharine von Bora belongs to the Reformation as 
one of its inherent parts. As she belongs to it, so it 
has a claim upon her. The Reformation annals are 
not complete without her, and among all the noble 
friends which it brings to us, there is none to whom 
we give that free, spontaneous, warm love which lives 
in our hearts for Katharine von Bora. 




VI. 

CATHERINE KRAPP. 

What are Plymouth Rock, Carpenter's Hall, 
Beacon Hill, without their hallowed memories? 
Poor, dumb mouths though they be, their language 
is eloquent. Divest the many sacred battlefields, 
historic spots, and hoarded relics of their associations, 
and what is left? There are many things which, 
having but little intrinsic merit, abound in interest 
and value because linked indissolubly with important 
and precious things. Thus it is with Catherine 
Krapp. Possessing nothing extraordinary in her 
character or life, yet as the worthy wife of Melanch- 
thon, she necessarily held a place of influence in the 
Reformation. 

Erasmus, the critical egoist and profound scholar, 
was led to exclaim of the third in the quartet of 
leaders in the Reformation : " What expectations 
does Philip Melanchthon excite, who is yet a youth ; 
yea, one may say a mere boy, and has already at- 
tained to equal eminence in the Greek and Latin 
literature ! ' ' And the exclamation was well grounded, 
for at the age of seventeen he became Doctor of 
Philosophy, and his powers of mind and attainments 
(40) 



CATHERINE KRAPP. 41 

were spoken of near and far. He became Professor 
of Greek in the Wittenberg University, and thus was 
brought into companionship with Luther. The young 
Professor, small in stature, with deep blue eyes and a 
noble forehead, became very popular, and drew stu- 
dents from distant places. Many institutions eagerly 
sought to gain him, and calls came from Nuremberg, 
Heidelberg, Tubingen, and even from England and 
France. 

The Wittenbergers observed this with distrust, and 
the fear that he would leave them urged the necessity 
of binding their favorite more securely to them. How 
could it be done? They decided that he must marry. 
All matrimonial plans were vigorously rejected by the 
student, who was deeply immersed in study, and 
would tolerate no interference. His friends persisted, 
meeting all his arguments with counter-arguments. 
In this trial even his associate, Martin Luther, could 
not counsel him, nor even express an opinion, and 
merely saying, "He had every wish that his dear 
Philip might find a suitable companion," he could 
advise no farther. At that time Ketha was still a 
nun of Nimptsch. 

The Wittenbergers proved the stronger party, and 
even selected the maiden. This was the daughter of 
the Burgomaster Krapp, at whose house Melanchthon 
Was a frequent visitor. All arrangements were per- 
fected by his ardent (over-ardent ?) friends, and Me- 



42 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

lanchthon yielded, sighing: "So; such is the will of 
God,_ I must relinquish my studies and joys, and 
follow the advice of my friends." Many learned 
men, some to be Reformers, witnessed the solemniza- 
tion of the marriage. 

The gentle, affectionate Catherine was coldly re- 
ceived. However, she was not repulsed. In propor- 
tion as Melanchthon grew colder, her love and 
devotion increased. It was not that Catherine herself 
was disliked, but he feared lest his well-beloved work 
would be interrupted. He knew and acknowledged 
her worth. He speaks highly of her education, char- 
acter, and disposition, which were "such as he could 
have asked from God," and admits that "she certainly 
deserved a better husband." 

There is a sweetness and beauty in her bearing 
toward him. Not resentful nor passionate, but trustful 
and faithful, she awaited with patient hope the smile 
of her husband. Would it come ? Could the distant 
frigidity remain ? Can the snow-drifts continue be- 
neath the warm golden sunbeams ? or is it possible for 
the bud to remain dwarfed and undeveloped when 
warm, powerful forces are bidding it unfold? No 
more could Melanchthon retain his cold, unimpas- 
sioned manner (which was contrary to his nature), 
when such devotion and love were exercised toward 
him. Even as, in the midst of the frigid North 
region, fountains of water, intensely heated, bubble 



CATHERINE KRAPP. 43 

up, so from beneath this cold reserve sprang a warm, 
true affection. 

Catherine was one of nature's most loving, yet 
timid and fearful creatures. She formed a circle of 
love about her, and jealously guarded it — ever wake- 
ful, ever divining by a quick instinct if any perils 
threatened her loved ones. Upon Philip her love 
centred itself, and at every indication of danger she 
was quickly roused. Public work often called him 
away from home, and then anxieties for his safety 
would overwhelm her timid, loving soul. With tears 
and sobs, even upon bended knees, as Calpurnia to 
Caesar, would she beseech him to remain at home. So 
great was her distress, so great her influence (howsoever 
wrongly used), that unable to resist, he would yield, 
saying, " Such is our lot." It was this same inability 
to resist persuasion that led to errors in the life of 
Melanchthon. His gentle spirit could not resist 
superior force, and led him to compromise. It was 
this that Luther condemned ; and yet this same mild- 
ness of nature had great effect in moderating the 
impetuous boldness of Dr. Luther. 

Melanchthon' s marriage introduced a new element 
— a new aspect to the Reformation — one upon which 
we love to muse, and which claims our warmest inter- 
est and enthusiasm — one by which we obtain such a 
new of the Reformers, whereby they are made more 
real to us — where, forgetting their heroic deeds, we 



U WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

feel that they are human, and even such as we. A 
fireside was opened to the Reformation — the first 
where the weary outcast found rest — the first where 
the learned congregated to hold council — the first 
where the Christian found sweet communion. This 
was a happy forerunner of the joys of the homes of 
Luther and Zwingli. 

Gentle deeds of mercy and kindness brought con- 
stant blessings to Catherine. The gentleness and 
mild tenderness so characteristic of both Melanchthon 
and his companion could not but produce a tranquil, 
happy home. The Reformer enjoyed it, and speaks 
pleasurably of "his little church," as he called the 
nursery. 

We have abundant evidence that by his marriage 
his fears were not realized. Surely there is sufficient 
proof that study was not neglected, in the long list 
of commentaries, dissertations, translations, doctrinal 
and ethical works, official documents, declarations, 
responses, and extensive correspondence, of which he 
was the author. 

Although her life is destitute of stirring incident, 
still we see in her a lovely character, one well adapted 
to the gentle Philip, and whilst we may admire that, 
we must also remember that to her we are indebted 
for the first opening to the social side of the Refor- 
mation, for the first open home where was help, 
encouragement, and strength for those who led us 



CATHERINE KRAPP. 



45 



into freedom and light. Those little, nameless, 
unrecorded deeds of love were a part of her daily life ; 
and the kindness flowing in sympathy from her loving 
heart was a silent stream of blessing to the strugglers 
in the strife. This is a hidden power and beauty in 
this quiet, gentle life. 




VII. 

ANNA REINHARD. 

On New Year's day in the year 15 19, Ulrich 
Zwingli entered the church of Zurich, and, in his 
own earnest, eloquent manner, began to expound the 
Scriptures in an entirely new way to his hearers. 
Salvation through Christ, and he the only Mediator, 
although so well known to us as to seem perfectly 
clear and simple, was to those of the sixteenth century 
a new thought. This idea Zwingli ever kept before 
them. The great truth that characterized his preach- 
ing is expressed in the motto he prefixed to all his 
letters — "Jesus Christ, the Son of God, hath said, 
' Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy 
laden.'" He was wonderfully gifted. Myconius 
says of him, " Never had there been seen a priest in 
the pulpit with such an imposing appearance and 
commanding power, so that you were irresistibly led 
to believe that a man from the apostolic times was 
standing before you." The people of Zurich were 
startled, convinced, and became more and more 
enthusiastic over Zwingli. He was very popular, and 
everywhere he was welcomed. 

Among the most rapt hearers, none were more 
(46) 



ANNA REIXHARD. 47 

enchained and moved than Anna Reinhard. Beauti- 
ful, ill-fated, much-chastened Anna ! If God's love 
is measured by his chastenings, then must she have 
been the most beloved of women, as she was "the 
most sorely tried." Her life is one of contrasts; of 
the very darkest sorrow and the most sunshiny happi- 
ness. The web of her existence is so wrought that 
the greater part is of the most sombre hue, while here 
and there we catch the gleam of a golden thread. 

In her girlhood she was extremely beautiful, grace- 
ful, and full of animation. She early won the love 
of a young nobleman — John Meyer von Knonan. 
"Difference in blood" forbade a happy consumma- 
tion, and the parents of Meyer arranged another 
marriage for him. "The more thou damm'st it up, 
the more it burns." So despite all barriers they were 
married, and thirteen years of happiness were passed, 
when Anna became a widow. The father of Meyer 
had cast him off; but a few years after his death, a 
reconciliation between Anna and Meyer's father was 
effected, through the innocent agency of the little 
Gerold. By this means, Anna was raised to the social 
position of the Meyer family, and assumed the attire 
and carriage demanded by it. At the death of the 
elder Meyer, Anna obtained the house in Zurich, 
where she was living when Zwingli entered upon his 
labors there. Her son Gerold soon won the love of 
the Reformer, who offered to direct him in his studies. 



48 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Thus a bond of friendship was formed, and Zwingli 
became a frequent visitor at the home of Gerold. 

Anna was now clothed in matronly dignity. The 
freshness of youth's beauty had departed, but there 
was left a richer attractiveness. Sorrow had given 
her a sweet seriousness, and imparted a subdued grace 
that enhanced her loveliness. As she walked in and 
out, completely absorbed in care for her children, 
Zwingli was irresistibly drawn toward her. Her 
gentle and firm disposition, her piety, good sense, and 
modest worth, were such as he would love in his life 
companion. 

His deliberations confirmed his inclinations, and 
Anna agreed to brave his perilous future. Marriage 
among the priesthood was a sorely-debated question, 
and to enter it Zwingli would encounter more censure 
from the Catholic world, which had already denounced 
him as like unto Luther. He had openly declared 
against celibacy ; still, a public marriage was hazard- 
ous. A private ceremony was performed in 1522, 
and Anna became the wife of the gifted Swiss Re- 
former. Now her future became as his, uncertain, 
full of fears and anxieties. She laid aside her rich 
robes, jewels, and ornaments, and appeared as became 
the wife of the parish priest of the Great Minster. 

In 1524 the marriage was publicly celebrated, to 
the great joy of his fellow Reformers. Some happi- 
ness is now granted to them. Ulrich Zwingli is 



ANNA REINHARD. 49 

happy in his home. Here there is open-hearted gen- 
erosity and hospitality. Wanderers, outcast and per- 
secuted Protestants of all lands, found a refuge and 
kind sympathy, and many were the blessings invoked 
upon the thoughtful hostess. Not only refugees, but 
the great and learned, found the hearth of Zwingli an 
agreeable place. This was a favorite resort of the 
Reformers, and many were the weighty questions 
discussed and the animated conversations that took 
place here. All agreed that Anna Zwingli had a 
wonderful combination of practical good sense and a 
rare facility in entertaining and conversing. 

Could the guest have seen further, and caught a 
glimpse of the ways and means in the parsonage, they 
would have accorded due praise for economy and 
thriftiness. So many calls upon the slender income 
demanded close calculation and frugality, in which 
Anna did not fail. Zwingli could well appreciate 
this economy, for he practiced the same with regard 
to his time. The great mutual work of both was the 
education of the children ; and it was a topic of 
much thought and conversation. Zwingli wrote and 
published a work upon that theme. In the house- 
hold, however, he was not the scholar or the preacher, 
but the father and the husband, enjoying household 
conversation. In the evenings he would read the 
proof sheets of his Swiss Bible to her, and when fin- 
ished, presented the first copy to her. This book was 
4 



50 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

her constant companion, at home and among her 
friends and sick neighbors, to whom she would read it. 

Zwingli was very active in public and state affairs, 
being, in later life, more of a statesman than a 
preacher. Many were the troubles that grieved him, 
but he ever found a ready sympathy in Anna. 

We do not see that active co-assistance and under- 
standing in the married life of the Swiss Reformer 
that we so love in the home-life of his brother Re- 
former in Germany ; still it was a happy one, and by 
it Zwingli was much strengthened and cheered. 
Anna proved a worthy companion, and fully met the 
wish of Capito for Zwingli, that she might be "a 
fellow -servant in the word, a help- meet of an apostle." 

Public troubles in Zurich increased. Zurich had 
gained to the cause of the Reformation six cantons, 
five remaining Roman Catholic. There was constant 
dissension between these two divisions, which at 
length proved fatal to the Zurichers. The five can- 
tons refusing religious liberty within their domain, the 
Protestant cantons, headed by Zurich and Berne, 
passed an embargo upon the former, thus depriving 
them of the necessities — salt, corn, iron, and steel. 
In vain Zwingli — the Reformer and statesman — urged 
them to withdraw their restriction. Finally,* the 
exasperated five cantons took arms and marched to- 
ward Zurich. In haste and confusion — for they had 
refused to believe the report — the men of the town 



ANNA REIXHARD. 51 

hastened to meet them. October ioth, 1529, the 
crisis came, and all Zurich was in an agony of fears, 
and every household saddened by the departure of 
some loved one — perhaps that one would never return. 
Anna with silent anguish commended her beloved 
Ulrich to God, and bade him farewell, All day there 
was the hushed silence of prayer in the city. Anna 
in her home, with her children gathered around her, 
filled with presentiment and fear, was praying, yet 
fearing to hope — waiting in suspense. 

Night came, and news was spread all over the 
stricken city. On the night air the cry that reached 
the waiting heart of Anna was, "Zwingli is slain." 
What heart-rending news ! Yet, ere the agony of 
this blow had lost its intensity, more heralds tell the 
death of Gerold, her pride. Now is the cup full; 
but it must overflow, and more sad tidings come. 
Her brother, her brother-in-law, her son-in-law, and 
others, are lying on the battle-field, wrapped in death. 
As loss after loss is made known, it seems that the 
torn heart must break ; yet, although there is heard 
lamentation and wailing in all Zurich, Anna finds no 
relief in tears — her agony is too great, it stupefies. 
All her loved ones laid low by one stroke ! Could 
sorrow be heavier ? Sorrow can be heavier, for Anna 
has still more to bear. 

The long night of throe and anguish past, morning 
brings a keener sorrow, for Anna can obtain no fare- 



52 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

well look at her loved companion — his body is quar- 
tered and burnt to ashes ! Ignominy and disgrace is 
heaped upon the departed hero. 

Such was the sorrow that came to Anna Reinhard. 
Thenceforward, for the remaining seven years, her life 
was one of seclusion. She devoted herself to the 
care of the orphan children of her son and daughter, 
and her own. Kind friends with ready sympathy 
endeavored to cheer her saddened lot. She remained 
in the home of Henry Bullinger, Zwingli's successor, 
but never appeared in public. She had been one of 
those called to suffer in a time of universal suffering, 
yet it is doubtful if so much sorrow was meted out to 
any other. " An accumulation of sorrows/' wrote one 
of the Reformers to her; while another cries, " O 
pious, beloved woman, be faithful ! ' ' Such an agony 
of trial would require the very strongest faith, and in 
this storm which tried the very heart and reins of her 
Christian character, by her noble endurance and firm 
reliance Anna Reinhard revealed to the hesitating 
people of Switzerland the secret power of that new, 
true faith in Christ. 



VIII. 

IDELETTE DE BURES. 

Calvin had reached the age of twenty-nine without 
a thought of marriage. The frequent occurrence of 
unpleasant incidents in his home, where a virago ser- 
vant maltreated his visitors, brought the question 
close to him, and friends and relations were not delin- 
quent in pressing it. He was, however, critical, 
fastidious, and most difficult to please. Each aspirant 
was rejected, often upon the slightest -pretext, as is 
seen in the example of one refused merely because 
she was not conversant with the French language. S3 
history says; but in view of the true, clear reason and 
conscience of Calvin, his consistent, upright, though 
cold character, we are compelled to believe that there 
was a strong basis for his actions in these matters. It 
must be true also, that he had sacred ideas of duty, 
and waited for the promptings of his heart, rather 
than that selfish, prudent reasons alone, controlled 
him here. 

In much discouragement, anxiety, difficulty, the 

search was continued, until in sadness he was ready 

to abandon it, when he was drawn toward Idelette de 

Bures. It was not a violent attraction nor a passion- 

(53) 



54 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

ate attachment, for according to his own words, he 
was "not one of the kind" to experience such emo- 
tions. . His nature was adverse to it, yet not incapable 
of true, strong devotion, and sincere, deep affection. 
These, however, were controlled by reason. He 
admired chastity, modesty, submission, economy, 
patience, and wanted for a wife such an one as would 
have an inclination to be careful of the health of her 
husband. Cool, with deliberation and calm reason, 
he measured the worth of a wife. Audin, the Roman- 
ist, puts it that he wanted a secretary, a nurse, a cook, 
a manager ; yet, we know, in view of the character 
of Calvin, that had all these qualities been present, 
they alone would not have led him to a union. He 
knew with his keen conscience the holiness of mar- 
riage, and his practical reasoning directed him, not 
supremely, but as checked and restrained by that 
inward voice of supreme authority. Assuredly, she 
who could stand such a test must be, indeed, a woman 
such as Idelette — called by him a " singularis exempli 
femina. ' ' 

She was the widow of Storder, an Anabaptist, who 
had lived in Strasburg. Calvin had converted them, 
and had been a frequent visitor at their house. 
Naturally, she would be attractive to such as John 
Calvin. Quiet, unobtrusive, with a refined simplicity, 
and a high culture and intellect, she would appeal to 
the cold intellectuality characteristic of this Reformer. 



IDELETTE DE BURES. 55 

Their marriage was celebrated with great solemnity, 
and another home was opened to the Reformation. 
This was one of the camps in the war of Reform — one 
of the larger resting or hiding places to which the 
hunted fled for support. It is scarcely conceivable 
how many flocked here, or how much power there 
was in Calvin. Geneva, which had increased but one 
thousand during a half century, now rapidly increased ; 
and during the seven years of Calvin's sojourn (1543- 
1550), the population arose from 13,000 to 20,000. 
We may well conclude that Idelette would encounter 
difficulties in entertaining the many guests, who were 
all desirous of speaking with Calvin, and the refugees 
who sought counsel of him. Great must have been 
the struggle in the household economy, since we 
know the words of Calvin : " I am so needy, that I 
have not a cent in my pocket." But notwithstanding 
these trials, there was happiness. We are told that 
it was a congenial union ; Calvin says he was "happy 
in a faithful companion who served the Lord with 
him, who loved him, and sought to make life peaceful 
and happy to him." At one time she is " the excel- 
lent companion of my life," and again, "the faithful 
assistant of my ministry." Such words of encomium 
from lips not given to smooth expressions of flattery, 
and seldom to just praise, are worth more than vol- 
umes of neatly-turned phrases from the pen of an 
adept sycophant. 



56 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

We all love to picture to ourselves the heroes of 
history. As we read of them, think about them, 
forms arise in the imagination, and as we color them 
with our own fancy, they become living, real to us, 
and we see them with the inner eye as distinctly as 
physical objects are beheld with the natural. How 
do we think of Idelette de Bures, and how does she 
appear to us ? Not as Katharine von Bora does she 
live in our heart and mind. Here we miss that 
hearty — herzig — look, those warm, sympathetic eyes, 
that ready smile of friendship, that wins us and makes 
us friends — these are lacking. We get these impres- 
sions from the home scenes and conversations, the 
little incidents and events that make up the life. We 
have caught the warm blaze from the hearth of the 
Luthers; it has kindled our love, and our hearts beat 
with love for them. The ruddy light vanishes as we 
enter the home of Calvin. Pure, simple, beautiful, we 
look on and admire, yet we do not cross the threshold 
and sit down in familiar talk. Boldly we open the 
letter-box of Dr. Martin (would we dare say "John" 
of Calvin ?), and feel happy in his loving words of 
Ketha and home ; he has made himself our Luther, a 
loved friend, and in his generosity he opens his heart 
to us, shows his love for Ketha, and bids us enjoy it 
with him. Not so, John Calvin. Within his heart, 
or brain (for the latter must have been the greater), 
he had locked his thoughts and feelings, and Idelette 



IDELETTE DE BURES. 57 

is hid with them. So she is to us one with a passive 
beauty — for she laid claims to the latter. There 
shines intelligence, reason, from her eyes, and a mod- 
est, calm dignity surrounds her. As the rich, warm, 
glowing, life-imparting painting to the cold sculptured 
marble, so is the relation of these two. 

Nine years passed in co-labor, and then the deli- 
cate, gentle Idelette, passed from his sight. Great 
is the condemnation, loud are the accusations of the 
enemies of Calvin, upon his actions at the death of 
his wife. He steadily pursued his work, and there 
was no outward demonstration. Therefore, he is 
called ^cold, heartless, unfeeling. This is, however, 
but a part of his nature. He has a strong will and a 
dominant reason, and controls the expression of his 
inner emotions. In such a nature there is a depth of 
sorrow, and an anguish of grief which those of a con- 
trary nature cannot comprehend, and it is only a 
superficial observation which can call such men 
"heartless," as the enemies of Calvin cried. Look- 
ing more closely, we see a sorrow which finds no 
utterance and reveals a heart susceptible of the deepest 
emotions. Two days after her death he writes : " My 
wife's death I have very bitterly felt, but I endeavor 
as much as possible to restrain my sorrow." He 
speaks of the great control exercised, or it could not 
have been borne, " it certainly would have crushed 
me." Seven years later, he still feels the pain, for in 



58 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

a condolatory letter he mentions his own great sorrow. 
It was deep in his nature, but a preponderating intel- 
lect and controlling will concealed it. 

Is Idelette spoken of too highly? Audin says: 
" If we are to credit Protestant writers, all these wives 
of reformers were angels of modesty, of virtue, whom 
God seems to have created expressly to be the orna- 
ments and happiness of their husbands. ' ' Truly the 
faults of these are not held up prominently, and all 
bidden to denounce the individual. Virtues are ex- 
tolled because they are beautiful, yet no one forgets 
that there are faults there — the evil mingled with the 
good. We search the earth for the gold, yet we find 
it mixed with dross ; still we ever behold the beauty 
of the metal — it is so precious we overlook the dross, 
although still there. So with these women. The 
ages are passing, and distance shows truly the good 
and the evil of events in their true light. All minor 
points fade into insignificance, and we look at the 
final result. We see that a good influence has ema- 
nated from these women in the Reformation, we see 
their worth, we are grateful for it, they are precious to 
us; and, although not seeking to hide error, we for- 
get it. As a whole, the character stands before us, 
we exclaim, "True, beautiful!" feeling the effect of 
the combination, even as in a work of the sculptor ; 
nor do we examine the defects in the marble — they 
are as nothing to the expression of the noble idea. 



IX. 

THE MONASTERY OF KONIGSFELDT. 

The contest of the sixteenth century, although 
attacking only the faith and doctrines of the Roman 
church, eventually led to the breaking up of its forms 
and institutions. Everywhere the religious houses 
were shaken, and as the new faith gained ground, 
many were dissolved. 

Among the foremost was the -'convent of Konigs- 
feldt, in Switzerland, on the banks of the Aar. This 
storied convent, where the nobility took the veil, was 
a truly royal structure. It was adorned with monas- 
tic glory and magnificence. Through the richly 
stained glass of the windows, the rays of the sun 
streamed with softened glory, giving to the place 
that dim religious light which imparts subdued feel- 
ings. Mysterious symbolic pictures, in glorious col- 
oring, covered the walls. Everywhere the eye rested 
there was harmony, glory and beauty. What must 
have been the character of worship here ! The glo- 
rious, sublime, soul-stirring music pouring forth from 
the organ, in waves and swells of deep harmony, 
the "voices of males and females blending," the 
chanting of, the priest and choir bovs — this alone 
(59) 



60 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

appealed to the senses and awoke emotions. More 
than that, there was the low, scarce audible response 
of the kneeling congregation, like mutterings of 
spirits through the place ; the swinging of the censer ; 
the perfume of the incense; the twinkling glimmer 
of the candles lighting up the gorgeous robes of the 
priests. All these appeal to the senses — and we see 
it is a religion of sense. 

These formalities and accessories awaken, even in 
the most ignorant, feelings of awe, mysterious won- 
der and reverence, which compel them to bow and 
worship blindly. It is the call from outward influ- 
ences to the feelings. True religion is the inward 
call — the cry of the soul to something outside of it, 
beyond it, above it. The soul is filled with indefin- 
able longings which cannot be appeased with these 
ceremonies, be they ever so beautiful. It seeks God, 
and there is no peace until the voice of God speaks 
to it, answering to every want, satisfying every desire, 
and still willing to pour further blessings — ever say- 
ing, " Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it." 

The worship at Konigsfeldt was carried on in the 
grandest manner, for it was the most magnificent — 
the most royal of the monasteries. A duchess, 
Catharine of Waldburg, was the abbess, and here the 
royal families of Switzerland and Suabia sent their 
daughters 



THE MONASTERY OF KONIGSFELDT. 61 

" To endure the livery of a nun ; 
For aye to be in shady cloister mewed, 
To live as barren sisters all their lives, 
Chanting faint hymns to the cold fruitless moon." 

This was no life of hard toil and bitter privation,, 
as was usual among the sisterhood. A great degree 
of liberty was allowed them, and no onerous duties 
wearied them. All the new books of the day were 
received and read, and among them Luther's and 
Zwingli's. To the latter they were much attracted. 
His truly eloquent words awakened thoughts and 
ideas before unknown to them. Their love for 
Zwingli became so great that they sought some way 
to give expression to it. Margaret Watteville, a nun 
of a most gentle, quiet, serene disposition, conceived 
the idea to write a letter to the Swiss leader, and 
thank him for the precious thoughts to which he had 
given utterance. She told him how universally he 
was beloved in the convent; how his words had 
entered into their minds and hearts; and that they 
ever prayed for his preservation. 

As they continued to read, their ideas were en- 
larged, and life assumed a new phase to them. They 
longed for liberty, and as slaves their cry was " free- 
dom." A petition was sent to the council of Berne, 
asking permission to leave. The councilors of the 
canton became alarmed, and used every means to 
change the purpose of the nuns. They reasoned, 



62 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

threatened, frightened, held forth promises and in 
ducements, but to no purpose. It availed naught to 
these determined women, who had found the true 
light, that the regime of the order was relaxed. 
The nuns became bolder, more resolute, and even des- 
perate, and sent a most touching appeal to the coun- 
cil. It was well worded. They had selected the word 
by which to denominate themselves, which of all 
others was the most forcible — "We, your prisoners," 
— -prisoners — those deprived of liberty — held by force. 

Krauchthaler, an influential banneret in the council, 
beheld himself in a new and extremely distasteful posi- 
tion — that of a jailer, and moreover jailer of these high 
and noble young ladies. He declined continuing in 
such an office, and so the council reluctantly yielded. 
The doors of the monastery were thrown open, and 
all who were so inclined were allowed to depart. 

Margaret and her companions joyfully left the 
grandeur and gloomy splendor of the convent; its 
beautiful adornings ; its mystical worship ; its sacred 
tranquillity; its seclusion and shelter from vanities. 
They walked forth not only in liberty of flesh — freed 
from all its rites and observances — but in the liberty 
of the spirit, which alone makes one truly free. 

Thenceforward their lives were of a positive Chris- 
tian character ; not of unavoidable goodness, because 
free from temptation, but of a goodness that asserts 
itself whenever the trial comes. 



X. 

CLARA MAY AND THE DOMINICANS. 

The news of the heretics, the faith they possessed, 
the stirring thoughts awakening men to Christian in- 
dividual responsibility, were resounding throughout 
Germany, penetrating France, pervading society in 
every corner of Europe, even as far as England and 
Scotland. Still the convent of St. Dominic in Berne 
was untouched by the heresy. * Although situated in 
a Protestant canton, where all around the contest was 
hotly waging, the inmates of the convent were obliv- 
ious of the world's great strifes, calmly continuing in 
their religious studies and meditations. This content- 
ment and happy ignorance could not long remain, 
and the time came when even here the heresy would 
enter. 

St. Michael, being the patron saint of the convent, 
on that day — St. Michael's day — a celebration was 
held and the doors were thrown open for visitors to 
enter. The sisters held free converse with any who 
were present. This was an opportunity which could 
not be neglected by the reformers of Berne. Sebas- 
tian Meyer, Berthold Haller, and other notable men, 
gladly entered the holy place ready to reveal the new 
(63) 



64 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

truths to the Dominican sisters. A most interesting 
group they must have formed within those gray con- 
vent walls. There were the honest, fervent men 
speaking eagerly and confidently to the black-robed, 
grave nuns. But there is one among them all whom 
we cannot fail to notice; she attracts both by her 
manner, and an inherent something which we can 
recognize, yet fail to define. 

Clara May had become a Dominican, much to the 
sorrow of her father, Claudius, who was an earnest 
worker in the Reformation. On this memorable day, 
she was to learn what had never before occurred to 
her. The conversation turning upon the life of those 
within the cloister, Meyer, the pastor of Anseltingen, 
remarked: " The merits of a monastic life are im- 
aginary, whereas marriage is an honorable state, hav- 
ing been instituted by God himself. ' ' This was the 
thought that fixed itself in the mind of Clara May, 
and would not be dislodged. " Imaginary, imagin- 
ary," echoed and re-echoed within her brain. This 
life — her life — cloister life imaginary ! It could not 
be. Then were all the ancient fathers wrong, then 
had her beloved "a, Kempis" lived in vain, since his 
was a recluse life. 

Is a life of consecration, leading to renunciation, 
the highest ? It is the question of earlier times and 
even of the present. The idea is embodied and most 
forcibly demonstrated in St. Simeon Stylites. No one 



CLARA MAY AND THE DOMINICANS. 65 

could have so crucified the flesh to gain heaven, and 
was it all for naught ? He has renounced all pleasures 
and comforts, and his years are spent 

" In hungers and in thirsts, fevers and colds, 
In coughs, aches, stitches, ulcerous throes and cramps, 
Rain, wind, frost, heat, hail, damp, and sleet, and snow." 

He has lived "thrice ten years thrice multiplied by 
superhuman pangs" singing pious hymns and psalms, 
in the midst of a suffering so intense that 

" It may be no one, not even among the saints 
May match Ins pains with mine." 

And looking from his pedestal, where high in air 
he stands in pain, he cries : 

" Mortify 
Your flesh, like me, with scourges and with thorns — 
Smite, shrink not, spare not." 

Thousands obeyed. Thousands lived that life of 
torture — calling it love for God — and to what end ? 
A life of self-renunciation is truly the highest, yet 
not in this form. It is the false idea of self-mortifi- 
cation for self-glory, as opposed to the life of self- 
abnegation for blessing to others, with no conscious- 
ness of the ego. Such is the true life. It is a life 
with a purpose ; and the less of self, the more of good 
to others that purpose embraces, the higher the life. 
Can this be practiced in retirement — apart from the 



66 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

world ? No, the application demands association 
with the world, its sorrows and temptations. 

The old saints say " flee the world." But a higher 
authority bids us go into the world and work, fight, 
watch, pray. Christ lived among men and not apart, 
showing it to be a common brotherhood. The New 
Testament records even the humble deeds of wayward 
women, but contains no prayer of a devotee. 

Clara May could reach no conclusion. She spoke 
to her companions, but this raised an alarm by which 
Haller was nearly banished from Berne ; for in their 
ignorance, they reported that he called "nuns the 
children of the devil." Finally, finding no repose, 
she wrote to Henry Bullinger, Zwingli's successor, 
who responded that St. Paul thought "young women 
should marry and not make vows." He added a 
verse from Timothy, " Follow Jesus Christ in hu- 
mility, charity, patience, purity and kindness. ' ' This 
was enough: Christ had spoken to her; she yielded, 
and the conflict was over. Duty plainly marked the 
path and she would follow in it. She wrote to her 
father, and was joyfully received by the many rela- 
tives who stood by the Reformers. 

She was afterward married to Nicholas Matteville, 
brother of the Konigsfeldt nun. He too was one of 
the true souls who had left the papal ranks, thereby 
losing worldly advancement. Together they walked 
in the humble, noble life of Christ's followers. 



XI. 

AXXE ASKEW. 

Progress must be propitiated with countless sacri- 
fices. From ignorance to light, from superstition to 
reason, from thralldom to liberty, from slavery to 
freedom, there is a great abyss which cannot be 
crossed until bridged with human offerings. As the 
great world moves forever down the ringing grooves 
of change, there ever mingles with the triumphal 
paean a deep wail of the De Profundis. Light hath 
come forth from deep darkness, and the throes of 
anguish herald it. Just behind the victory is the 
abyss of human sacrifice. The Sixteenth Century be- 
held such a chasm, and promptly filled the gap. One 
of the host that dared cross too soon — before the of- 
fering was complete — was Anne Askew. Her young 
life was freely cast into the yawning gulf, as the Re- 
formation, with mighty strides, crushing many to exalt 
the innumerable, marched onward. 

It is a prominent fact that the great power that won 
the masses from Romanism was not the preaching of 
the Reformers, although this converted many — not 
the promulgation of theses, doctrines, disputations, 
although this had its influence — not the exposure of 
(67) 



68 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

the corruptions and abuses of Popery, although this 
stirred the hearts of many—but the mighty, universal 
force was the broadcast distribution of the Bible. 
Everywhere, from the rugged highlands of bonnie 
Scotland to the deep blue skies of sunny Italy, the 
open Word was eagerly read, often with trembling 
and in secret \ and thus seeing the variance of the 
doctrines of Romanism from the pure word of the 
Lord, the heart revolted from the former, and so loved 
and leaned upon the precious truths of the latter, that 
it became dearer than life, and even worthy of its 
sacrifice. 

In the heart of Anne Askew, the new, wondrous 
truths of Scripture worked the natural change. She 
became a diligent student of the Bible, a helper and 
fellow-laborer among the devoted Lollards; but this 
devotion brought to her few years the bitterest bread 
of adversity and the deepest water of trouble. Mar- 
ried early, against her will, there was but little sympa- 
thy in her home-relations, and when she became 
suspected of heresy, this turned to hatred. Her 
husband, with the priests at his heels, subjected her 
to cruelty and shameless severity, and finally drove 
her from the house. She went to London, and as 
her case was a common one there, she met many 
kind and sympathetic friends at court. Persecution 
followed her here, but so pure and true was her life 
that even a spy was obliged to report that she was the 



ANNE ASKEW. 69 

most devout woman he had ever seen. But dare a 
young woman of twenty-three, defenseless and gentle, 
hope to escape the determinate cruelty of brutal 
priests, helped as they were by her husband? A pre- 
text was found, and she was brought to trial. She 
has left a tender account, written while in prison. 
It is well that there is a minute report of this exami- 
nation, for it is a fine, clear exposition of Anne's 
character. We see the keen, bright, alert mind ; 
quick, shrewd and witty are her brilliant thoughts; 
we see the strong, noble soul whose conscience rested 
in God alone ; we see the true, earnest Christian 
character, fearless, trusting, confident. The scripture 
was the basis of her faith, and to this she clung. The 
object of the examiners was to obtain an acknowledg- 
ment of heresy; but, hoping to avert the impending 
sentence, she refused to criminate herself. Says the 
examiner : "Do you believe that the sacrament upon 
the altar is the very body and blood of Christ?" 

To this she responds : " Please inform me why 
Stephen was stoned to death?" 

" I cannot tell," says the examiner. 

"Neither will I tell you whether I do or do not 
believe the sacrament upon the altar to be the very 
body and blood of Christ." 

Without acknowledging or denying her belief, her 
constant response was, "I believe as the Scripture 
teacheth." Nevertheless, she was sent to prison, only 



70 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

to be brought to another examination. Upon one 
speaking insinuatingly against her life, she nobly re- 
sponded : "I would that all men knew my conversa- 
tion and living in all points \ for I am so sure of my- 
self at this hour that there is none able to prove any 
dishonesty in me. If you know any that can do it, 
I pray you bring them forth." 

A confession of faith, contrary to her conscience, 
was brought to her for her signature. Importuned 
by friends and threatened by enemies, fearing to 
deny, she wrote, "I do believe all things contained 
in the faith of the Catholic church." This was be- 
yond all bounds ! Bonner, the prelate, was enraged, 
for was not this an open acknowledgment of the 
Lollards, the Waldenses, and every other class of 
heretics, and a total ignoring of the Great Roman 
Church? In wrath and a storm and frenzy of rage 
he committed her to prison. Her doom was sealed, 
for none dared the anger of Bonner and Gardiner, 
and escaped. 

In the solitude of her prison, alone with him who 
was cast aside and who became, a reproach among 
men, she found sympathy, comfort and strength. Her 
heart cries out in sorrow, "More enemies now I have 
than hairs upon my head ; ' ' but responds again in 
trust, "Christ will take my part and ease me of my 
woe." Meditating upon the state and probable issue 
of her present imprisonment, she was convinced that 



ANNE ASKEW. 71 

nothing but recantation would save her life. She 
could no longer maintain her ground of negation, 
nor evade the positive declaration of her sentiments. 
What should she do? Lose her life — and in cruel 
torture? It is a hard question, and terrible in its 
sadness to come to one but twenty-four years of age — 
young, vigorous, hopeful, beautiful ! 

Conscience spoke to the young sufferer, and fearing 
God alone, she wrote, fearless of men, her whole be- 
lief maintaining unfalteringly the truth of God's 
word in opposition to Popish doctrine. This was all 
that was wanted. The last trial shows forth nobly 
her fearless Christian womanhood : without evasion 
or hesitancy she responds to all inquiries ; but sneers 
and scoffs are the resort of her opponents, as bishop 
after bishop is put to confusion and ridicule, as she 
shows the absurdity and foolishness of their questions 
when put to Scriptural test. Her confession being 
taken as the proof of her guilt, she was condemned 
to die. In the name of justice she appealed to the 
king, but the inquisitors had more power than an 
humble appeal, although based on justice. 

Bonner and Gardiner — the infamous — were not yet 
satisfied ; they were remorseless, and thirsted for 
cruelty. Hearing that Anne Askew had received 
kind messages, favors and gifts while in prison, they 
sought to find out who had been her friends, and to 
convict them accordingly. Anne was questioned to 



72 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

no purpose ; and as a result we find the delicate, 
tender frame of the gentle woman stretched upon the 
rack and every joint displaced. Here she is the same 
strong, fearless, faithful woman, a soul firm to Christ, 
true to her friends as to her God. 

From Newgate to Smithfield — from the prison to 
the stake — and the heroic young martyr gives up the 
life that is perfected by her death. It is the great time 
of transition, and this is but one of the sacrifices de- 
manded. Still suffering from her torture, Anne was 
carried to the place of execution and bound to 'the 
stake. With her there are three Christian men, in 
fear and grief; and to them she is a messenger of 
comfort and cheer, with " an angel's countenance and 
smiling face," speaking words of courage and hope. 
Even here, there is another test of her heroic endur- 
ance and faith. As the fire is about to be started, a 
sealed packet is shown her — the king's pardon if she 
will recant. "I am not come here to deny my Lord 
and Master," was. the firm response of the heroic 
soul. She had borne the storm of the conflict, and 
on the verge of everlasting peace would not look back, 
but stepped forward. 

Abraham was called to offer not one of his sons, but 
his beloved Isaac. It was not any lamb of the flock 
that was brought to the sacrifice, but the firstling of 
the flock. So into these chasms when ignorance 
changes to light, the offerings brought are, many 
times, the strength and beauty of a noble young life. 



XII. 

ELIZABETH OF BRANDENBURG. 

Elizabeth, Electress of Brandenburg, was a power- 
ful agent in the Reformation, and the fruits of her 
mission are yet seen. Prussia is a Protestant country. 
This is due to her influence, and the honor of it 
should be accorded to her. The house of Branden- 
burg — one of the most powerful in Germany — lent 
great assistance in promoting the progress of the 
Reformation; and for this all gratitude should be 
given to the pious Electress, Elizabeth of Branden- 
burg. 

She was a member of the royal family, grand- 
daughter of Christian I. of Denmark, sister of Christian 
II. and in many other ways connected with the no- 
bility. At the age of sixteen, she was married to 
Joachim I., Elector of Brandenburg, also a membei 
of the house of Saxony, and royally connected. 
Brandenburg, which now forms part of Prussia, being 
among the largest of the many states into which the 
country was divided, wielded accordingly a powerful 
influence. Elizabeth, marrying the Elector of the 
state, would therefore have some power in directing 

that influence. 

(73) 



74 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

The marriage of Joachim and Elizabeth was looked 
upon as a most fortunate union ; and indeed the first 
few years seemed to justify all the hopes of their 
friends. Happiness and sunshine flooded the path of 
the illustrious couple, and the love of Joachim for his 
beautiful wife was overflowing. She was called "the 
highest lady of the land, and also the most beautiful." 
Young, noble, graceful, lovely in form and features, 
for years she was the pride of the Elector's heart; but 
the evil days came, when he had no pleasure in her. 
His love, though deep and passionate while it existed, 
was mutable. His nature was fickle, and his love for 
Elizabeth waned. The brightness of their home 
slowly disappeared, and constant little bickerings ex- 
hausted their love. 

" It is the little rift within the lute, 
That, by and by, will make the music mute, 
And, ever widening, slowly silence all." 

Not only did Joachim prove fickle, but he became 
faithless, and so brought heavier sorrow to his grieved 
wife. Trouble leads the sufferer to Christ. When 
all things in the world fail — love dies and the heart 
is desolate and sick — it seeks a refuge, which is found 
alone in Christ. So, Elizabeth was led to receive 
him. She devoted herself to the study of religious 
works, and was convinced by the truth of Martin 
Luther's words. 

With her faith came an earnest desire and hope 



ELIZABETH OF BRANDENBURG. 75 

that she might partake of the Lord's Supper. It be- 
came her ruling wish and longing. But, how could 
it be effected? Joachim was a most bigoted Roman- 
ist, a devoted zealot in the cause of Rome; Luther, 
Luther's works, Luther's religion, were all hateful to 
him. He was fierce and passionate, and feared by 
every one. Patiently she waited and never faltered in 
her purpose. An opportunity was presented. Her 
husband was called from the castle, and during his 
absence, she and her brother Christian I. accom- 
plished what she had so long desired, and the holy 
communion was celebrated in the castle. 

The consequences of this act were far greater than 
any of the participants had feared. Xo sooner had 
the master of the house entered, upon his return, than 
his daughter Elizabeth bounded forward to greet 
him and narrate all the wonderful events that had 
transpired in the castle during his absence. "A man's 
foes shall be those of his own household." Christ's 
prophecy met a fulfillment in this household. The 
rage of Joachim was intense; his anger knew no 
bounds, and made him forget all that was due his 
wife. Words failed to express his passion, and he 
ordered her to her room. Here she was kept, as a 
prisoner, in solitary confinement. She thought of all 
that had passed, of the probable future, and asking 
for guidance she resolved to act — to depart if possible, 
from the house of Joachim. 



76 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Accordingly, arrangements were made, and on a 
very dark night, in the habit of a peasant woman, 
Elizabeth, Electress of Brandenburg, left the castle of 
Joachim. A rude wagon was in waiting, and in this 
conveyance she rode away. Her flight was not 
without fears, anxieties, and discouragements. Be- 
fore they had reached their destination, a wheel of 
the wagon broke, and the driver declared they could 
go no further. Elizabeth's heart sank, for she feared 
her lord would soon arrive and lead her back to con- 
finement. She hastily took the handkerchief from 
her head and threw it to the man, who tied the 
broken part and hastily pressed forward. Arriving at 
her uncle's, the Elector of Saxony, she found him 
loth to receive her, as he feared the wrath of Joachim. 
Her tears and prayers prevailed, especially as the 
Elector was one of that consecrated band that existed 
secretly throughout the regions where the new truth 
had spread, to whom the mystic watchword "In His 
Name," dared not pass unheeded, but claimed all the 
sympathy and help of a loyal, devoted follower. 

So the Elector was faithful to his vows in the face 
of danger and wrath, and helped this needy one 
strong in faith. He gave her the castle of Lichten- 
burg, to which she retired. Here she lived a life of 
seclusion, of study, of consecration. She seldom ap- 
peared in company, choosing rather to employ her 
time in reflection and devotion. Her children, who 



ELIZABETH OF BRANDENBURG. 77 

were much attached to her, came often to see her. 
She never failed to speak to them upon the most 
necessary and the sweetest subject in the world. Her 
instructions were well heeded, and her influence upon 
those children is seen in their after lives. 

After the death of Joachim, the children, who al- 
ways thought of their mother with love, brought her 
from her retirement to her former home. Here her 
influence over them became greater, and although 
their father, in his deep hatred of the reform, made 
the sons promise by his dying bedside to work against 
it, yet — under the influence of their Christian mother 
— they were led to pursue an opposite course, and 
came out as noble and strong abettors of the cause of 
the Reformation, instead of its opponents, for which 
their father had designed them. Even her daughter 
Elizabeth, wife of Eric, a most bitter enemy of the 
Reformers and those of the new faith, she who had set 
husband and wife at variance (even as Christ had 
foretold), this strong foe at length renounced her old 
faith, declared herself a disciple of Christ, and be- 
came an influential ally of the right. Truly, prayer 
is an arm of might. So, Elizabeth's latter days were 
crowned with blessing. Luther wrote her many 
friendly letters, for she had become a personal friend 
of his during her retirement at Lichtenburg. She 
had, during that period, officiated as godmother to 
his beloved daughter Magdalene, and so had become 



78 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

endeared to the Doctor. From him, she had learned 
many things, and had drank more deeply of that 
spiritual fount for having learned of him. All the 
mighty truths that the Wittenberg doctor had dis- 
closed to her, gave her that power to lead her chil- 
dren in the true path. 

The life of Elizabeth, Electress of Brandenburg, was 
not one of active, ever-varying incident and boldness. 
Her work in the Reformation can not be set to mar- 
tial music, and awaken soul-stirring emotions, making 
the blood flow faster and kindling the imagination. 
Hers was not the position of the soldier in the midst 
of the fray, battling, striving, working in the glory 
and din of the field of action. No, her life was one 
of study, of solitude; of prayer, of devotion; of dis- 
course and research — an intellectual life; and the in- 
fluence of that life — quiet as it was— was most power- 
ful. It is as some simple story, some unadorned 
poem, that although exercising a different power 
from the mighty, sublime verse of the old masters, is 
just as strong and as noble. Though not a hero in 
the ranks, helping the cause by open combat, she is as 
the canvasser that rouses others — appeals, convicts, 
incites others to enter the work — she is the voice that 
speaks to them, that is felt in their hearts, that leads 
them to brave the severest trials. She is one of those 
true magnetic souls that call forth nobility in every 
one, even the least soul whom she touches; one with 



ELIZABETH OF BRANDENBURG. 



79 



whom none can be trivial or false, for her very truth 
and earnestness would awake the hidden seeds of 
truth in the lowest soul. She is one of those souls 
whom God has sent into the world with a divine 
mission — the mission of influence. 




XIII. 

THE GENEVESE WOMEN. 

In any great revolution or change, in those crises 
in the world's progress when the life or death of 
nations trembles in the balance, there is ever a secret 
unwritten history of suffering, of struggle, trial and 
grief. The world sees the outer contest, the fierce 
strife and battle; but beneath its clangor lies the 
silence of an unuttered, often unutterable woe. As 
the brave-hearted man goes forth fearlessly to face 
death, a loving, loyal people send, with him tender 
sympathy and earnest prayer, yet too often forget 
that brave hearts are not in the battle-field alone ; nor 
is it the only altar upon which the sacrifice of life is 
laid. There is a suffering even in the midst of the 
people, even around the home fire-side; a suffering 
not of the camp and the fight, but of the lonely heart, 
the struggling life, and the desolated home. There 
is a sorrow greater than death in a life-long grief, 
which is a daily death. Sorrow as a conqueror is less 
bitter in anguish than sorrow as a companion. This, 
is the sacrifice which women offer to their country, 
and which crowns them patriots as true as those who 
freely gave a life in the hour it was demanded. This 
(80) 



THE GENEVESE WOMEN. 81 

is the trial which loyal women must suffer, and none 
can know the heroic lives which have borne such a 
part in the world's struggle for right and truth. 

In the death-struggle of error and truth, ruin and 
destruction are scattered on all sides. Such a contest 
was the Reformation, and amid devastation and 
death, terror and darkness prevailed, and the record 
of individual suffering is lost in the great sum of uni- 
versal misery. Here and there the name of a hero or 
martyr gleams, yet countless are the heroic hearts 
buried in earth's silence. Here and there the signal 
act of a woman is told ; but hushed darkness lies 
upon untold sacrifice. Out of such agony alone came 
forth liberty and truth. The powers of darkness are 
mighty, and they shook the kingdom of heaven until 
cast in bonds under darkness unto the judgment of 
the great day. The lamentation and woe in the 
stricken homes was heard throughout the land. In 
the life of Anna Reinhard, we have the grief of 
thousands — life bereft of love in the loss of all the 
loved ones at a single stroke ; in that of Anne Askew, 
the agony of those who counted it all joy to suffer, 
even in the flaCmes, for truth's sake. That day in 
which men's 'souls were tried, came with a different 
demand to thousands. The trial of the Genevese 
women was peculiar, and reveals more than any other 
the general suffering of women in times of tumult and 
danger. 
6 



82 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Although the Reformation, in its awakening, 
touched only upon abuses in the church, and aimed 
only at religious liberty, still it produced a wider 
revolution, disturbing the whole social and political 
world, bringing to light wrongs and sins in manifold 
phases, and sounded the herald cry of liberty in 
religion, which was caught up and re-echoed for a 
century in the cry for freedom in every God-given 
right of man. States, provinces, cantons, arose to 
shake off bonds that held them in unrighteous thral- 
dom, and found in the Reformation a salvation from 
the evils of ages. Thus in Geneva the struggle was 
both political and religious; and the outcome was 
freedom in both aspects. The church rejoices in the 
Reformation as the natal day of religious liberty ; but 
the world also can look upon it as the epoch when 
the great step was taken toward a higher political 
liberty, laying the foundation for a higher and 
broader civilization. Modern progress has resulted 
from the impulse which it gave to the world. 

The struggle for liberty in Geneva was a struggle 
of centuries. The soul of the people burned under 
the yoke of tyranny, and the time of the Reformation 
brought the opportunity to cast it from them. Eoi 
years, aye, for centuries, there had been a contention 
with the ruling dukes, who strove to unite temporal 
and spiritual power, while the people looked to the 
Bishop as the head of the church, and refused to 



THE GENEVESE WOMEN. 83 

recognize the union of the rule of church and state. 
Amid the dissensions of the sixteenth century this 
struggle grew in intensity, and when the Duke of 
Savoy claimed this right, and encroached farther on 
the liberty of religion, the culmination was reached. 
Among the Genevese people there were Huguenots, 
men of conviction, of firm truth and deep religion, 
who fought earnestly against this injustice. The 
Duke was a cruel man, and maintained his right even 
with relentless boldness, while the martyred body of 
a Blanchet and Navis bore witness to the firmness 
and devotion of the* Huguenots. When the noble 
Berthelier was killed and quartered, even then their 
courage failed not; and when the Duke attempted to 
deceive the people by a mystery-play, upholding 
Romanism, the brave men of conviction publicly re- 
sponded by a drama — "The Sick W r orld, and the 
Bible the only Remedy." They were constrained to 
maintain the truth. The opposition grew, and 
Levrier, the leader, was seized and imprisoned. The 
Duke knew how the people loved him, and cruelly 
cried: "Let them acknowledge themselves my sub- 
jects, and I will release Levrier." 

Often the present moment makes a demand upon 
us, and we think we are justified in sacrificing the 
future to present necessity; but the Huguenots were 
not beguiled into this mistake of judgment. They 
loved Levrier, but they loved truth more. Each 



84 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

would have ransomed him with his own life, but 
Geneva was too great a price to pay; moreover, it 
was not their right to give it. The noble ladies went 
to Beatrice, the Duke's wife and the power behind 
the throne, and begged his life ; but vainly, for Levrier 
was executed. The storm gathered in darkness; the 
Duke withdrew in fear, and brought an army against 
the city. A hasty council was held, and the patriots 
thought it better to withdraw than to bring confusion 
upon Geneva ; so amid the tears of wives and chil- 
dren, they departed for Freiburg, through whose faith- 
ful devotedness Geneva had been received into the 
Swiss alliance. Here the Duke sent favorable terms 
to them, but they showed their trust in his promises 
by sending to Geneva for their families. 

The trials of these Genevese women, the wives of 
these faithful patriots, were peculiar, and yet a type of 
the general trials of women in time of tumult. It 
would, have been easier at that time to have accepted 
terms and enjoyed' peace, but it was this very spirit 
in their ancestors that had brought the yoke ; and the 
patriots chose the strife for right rather than to pur- 
chase ease at so dear a rate as the sacrifice of personal 
independence. During these years of struggle, the 
women shared the fears and anxieties of those who 
stood in the midst of the conflict. Their anxiety 
was the greater because they could do nothing, but 
must bear and wait. Theirs was the hardest of all 



THE GENEVESE WOMEN. 85 

duties — waiting. Then when the crisis came there 
was the agony of parting — in a time when it might be 
forever — and again came the torture of waiting — a 
daily watching and waiting to hear from the dear 
ones who were face to face with the fate of Blanchet, 
NaviSj Berthelier, Levrier. We dare not deny the 
heroic part endured by these women; as, day after 
day they fulfilled the little deeds in the home, when 
souls burned to go out and free themselves of the 
burden in action; and when the eventless, silent 
hours dragged slowly by in tedious weariness, while 
the anxious ones worked and waited, and the heavy 
heart ached and groaned. These are the hours of 
agony which try the soul of woman in the dark day 
of the world's conflicts. 

This agony of suspense was broken when the call 
came from their husbands to join them at Freiburg, 
and the Genevese women prepared to leave home 
with their little ones. It was a break in the night of 
suspense; and even the new trials were lighter than 
the torture of waiting. Yet it was a work, the magni- 
tude of which can scarcely be comprehended in an 
age of railroads and universal travel. There was little 
traveling done by women, the facilities few, the 
danger great, and, as D'Aubigne says, such a journey 
then was equivalent to a journey around the world in 
these days. In fear, uncertainity, doubt; terrified, 
nervous, with strange languages on all sides, and the 



86 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

country in confusion ; it is not strange that they wan- 
dered through the land "bathed in tears and broken- 
hearted." The troop of afflicted wanderers finally 
arrived in Freiburg, destitute of everything, weary 
and distressed. Their husbands received them, but 
could find no homes; and these noble ladies, reared 
in court and palace, wandered about the streets with 
their helpless children, finding no shelter, not even a 
stable where they could rest in their exhaustion. 
They pressed their little ones to their hearts, soothed 
them with tender words and kisses, and spoke courage 
to the faltering patriots. The fugitives applied to the 
council, saying: "We sent for our families — we can 
neither lodge nor feed them. Permit them to enter 
the hospital." 

Here a shelter was found ; and during the weeks 
of sorrow that followed they cried: "God himself is 
conducting our affairs ! ' ' The Bernese and allied 
states looked with admiration at the noble sufferers; 
and as the whole Alliance beheld their firmness, their 
bravery and their endurance in trial, they united in 
effort to restore them to home, peace and freedom. 
After the night came the glad day; and as the joy- 
bells rang liberty to Geneva, the one thrill of gladness 
dissipated the terrible grief and anguish that had filled 
their hearts. The Genevese women reveal to us one 
phase of that universal trial that comes- in the time of 
disaster, dissolution and destruction. 



XIV. 

ELIZABETH OF BRUNSWICK. 

When Elizabeth of Brandenburg fled from the 
castle of Cologne, constrained by the persecutions of 
her Romanist husband, the sorrow and grief of the 
hour was deepened by the thought that her devotion 
to the new religion had been betrayed to Joachim by 
her own daughter. Thoughts of this daughter and 
her bigoted zeal for the Papacy brought an added 
bitterness, and made the dark hour more fraught with 
anguish. It was trying for her, whose soul was so full 
of the truth of the new faith, and so convinced of the 
errors and sins of the old, to see her loved daughter 
so strong in hatred to the true, and so intense in 
ardor to the false as to hold devotion to it a just 
cause to break even parental obligations. Elizabeth, 
the daughter, wife of Eiic of Brunswick, was one of 
those intense, earnest natures, ready to give all for 
conscience's sake. Her convictions were deep, her 
spirit fervent, and naturally her every action was dic- 
tated by the former and executed with the vigor of 
the latter. Positive, sincere, faithful, was her char- 
acter; and nothing vacillating, half-hearted or inde- 
cisive, marked her. Trained in early years in the 
(87) 



88 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Roman faith, she gave her whole spirit to its cause ; 
and while we speak of the cruelty in informing the 
father of the act of worship of his wife, we see beneath 
it the devotion which Rome exacted of her followers, 
and it is the conscientious act of one of her zealots. 
While believing in the Roman Catholic church, she 
had the spirit of its devotees. Later this same spirit 
was seen in her adherence to it, and support of it. 
Her visits to the Castle of Lichtenberg, the castle to 
which her mother had retired, became a source of 
trouble to her mother, as she would reveal to the 
Catholics whatever occurred there that touched upon 
the cause, and would repeat the conversations of 
Luther where they would arouse anger. At one 
period, in this way, she increased the dissensions be- 
tween the Reformer and George, Duke of Saxony. 
Even those hours of sadness and loneliness were 
sadder from thoughts of this daughter in error. 

Deep as must have been the grief of the mother, so 
great must have been her joy when that daughter be- 
held her error, and, convicted of the truth in Christ, 
gave the strength and devotion of that strong, ardent 
nature to the side of right and the cause of the Ref- 
ormation. True, it was, that although sown in tears, 
her words and prayers had been blessed, and that 
now she reaped in joy. Conviction of the truth came 
to Elizabeth of Brunswick through the constant hear- 
ing of the word and argument, suddenly illuminated 



ELIZABETH OF BRUNSWICK. 89 

by the Holy Ghost. Like Paul, she had been breath- 
ing threatening and slaughter, and in the same mar- 
velous manner ' * there straightway fell from her eyes 
as it were scales, and she arose and was baptized." 

Like Paul, Elizabeth of Brunswick could act only 
in accordance with conviction and as conscience im- 
pelled. She was a strong, positive character, of deep 
conscientiousness and decided action, and ready to 
use every power in the cause of her heart. Imme- 
diately upon receiving the new faith, she felt it her 
duty to proclaim it to the world, and to let her 
actions affirm and conform to the truth and sincerity 
of her convictions. Accordingly, she sent word to 
Philip, Landgrave of Hesse, the warm friend of the 
Reformation, informing him of the change in her 
heart and the corresponding determination to support 
the Reformation with all her power; she begs him to 
send her the preacher Corvinus to help her — she had 
counted the difficulties, but, trusting in God, is ready 
to go forward. Philip communicated the news to 
Elector John, who, remembering her bitter antago- 
nism, rather doubted its truth, but his distrust yielded 
to joy as he beheld her constancy and zeal. 

With the reception of the true faith, she recognized 
Luther in his real aspect, as a leader of the Reforma- 
tion and a great soul — "a bringer-back of men to 
reality," as Carlyle called him. He was revealed to 
her as the Hero -priest of Carlyle; — "a true great 



90 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

man; great in intellect, in courage, affection and in- 
tegrity; one of our most lovable and precious men.' , 
She entered into correspondence with him, and 
mutual words of encouragement were interchanged. 
To him Elizabeth looked for advice to guide her in 
aiding the reform. She was in a position where she 
was able to use influence in this work, for she suffered 
none of the sad experience of her mother. Her hus- 
band, Eric, Duke of Brunswick, although a Catholic, 
was of a tolerant disposition, and, moreover, had a 
high regard for the judgment of his wife. To those 
who complained of Elizabeth's heresy, he responded : 
" My wife does not interfere with and molest us in 
our faith, and, therefore, we will leave her undisturbed 
and unmolested in hers." He showed this perfect 
confidence in his wife, by leaving the whole govern- 
ment to her upon his death, and granting to her the 
full control and guardianship of their son, Eric. The 
Catholics made an effort to secure him, but it proved 
futile, and he was reared by his mother and trained 
in Protestant doctrines.- Passing through Wittenberg 
at one period, Elizabeth invited Luther to dine with 
her, and he was delighted with the proficiency of the 
boy in Scripture knowledge; but he expressed fears 
of the influence of Romanism to which he would be 
exposed in the future. He says to Corvinus: "Con- 
tinue in importunate prayer in behalf of the young 
prince, and unceasingly admonish him ; for it is to 



ELIZABETH OP BRUNSWICK. 91 

be feared that, should he have much companionship 
with our adversaries, he may easily be moved to de- 
fection, through their great authority." 

Elizabeth united her sovereignty to the Schmalkald 
league, openly declared in favor of the Reformation, 
and took decisive steps to establish the faith in her 
territory. Under her instruction, Corvinus prepared 
two volumes containing an exposition of the religion, 
and a catechism based on the Augsburg Confession, 
so that all the pastors could be informed of the truth. 
She herself visited the people, examining, encourag- 
ing, exhorting. She issued a circular to her subjects 
urging to persevere in prayer and active faith. Her 
enthusiastic spirit spread, a firm foundation of intel- 
ligence was created ; and, within a few years after she 
undertook the regency, evangelical truth was pro- 
claimed throughout Brunswick — in both sovereignties, 
Calenberg and Gottingen. The German hymns of 
Luther were sung, and these were so loved by the 
people that they became a powerful factor to unite 
them to the cause. 

Later, Elizabeth married Poppo of Huneberg, who 
had been a Romanist, but having renounced its faith, 
had written a small book upon the doctrines and 
truth of the Reformation. Her influence was thus 
widened and enthusiasm for truth extended into these 
territories. 

Luther's fears for Eric were realized, for when 



92 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Elizabeth resigned the government to him, upon his 
attaining his majority, the work was checked. Her 
people lamented the end of her wise regency, and 
she expressed the sentiment of all hearts when in her 
final words she spoke of gratitude to God for carry- 
ing the state through all its difficulties, bringing it to 
the true light, and establishing true religion in its 
borders. She gave Eric a letter of love, caution and 
advice — the document still exists, revealing maternal 
solicitude and love of truth — but the power and in- 
fluence offered him by the Catholic party, urging him 
also to return to the faith of his fathers, lured him into 
their ranks. Corvinus was imprisoned, and the 
country, which had been in peace, was involved in 
misery and brought to the brink of ruin. Elizabeth, 
forced to depart by his cruelty, breathed forth her 
agony in prayer and song. Seventeen sonnets written 
by her at this time exist in MS. in the ducal library 
of Gotha. 

This sorrow endured until her death. She clung 
with hope to the love of Christ, and had such a grand 
faith that she looked for triumph, assured that truth 
crushed to earth shall rise again, and although she 
did not live to see the great day, hers was the joy of 
faith, not sight. 

Elizabeth of Brunswick could have been a power 
for good or evil. She held such a position. Al- 
though not as Marguerite or Jeanne could she touch 



ELIZABETH OF BRUNSWICK. 93 

the great ruling influence, still she belongs to a class 
who have a little circle in which they rule, from which 
influence radiates to help or hinder truth. It is such 
an influence as we. see in this age, which leads in re- 
formatory movements or charities — a power in society. 
Elizabeth was just the person to seize all the advan- 
tages of her position: she liked power, liked useful- 
ness, was energetic, active, enthusiastic, inspiring. 
She was true to her power and opportunity — one of 
the servants who rightly used the five pounds. It is 
a tribute to her intellect that, even when biased, she 
perceived truth and knew how to scatter it ; to her 
spirit, that she willed to do the work of God and 
freely shed the blessing ; to her character, that her 
work was true to that knowledge and spirit. 




XV. 

THE THREE CATHERINES. 

England may boast her three Marys, and secular 
history keep their names and memory alive, yet how 
much more should sacred annals cling to the remem- 
brance of its three Catherines; for if beautiful char- 
acter and noble deeds be worthy, in these the latter 
were among those who excelled. Let us honor the 
three Catherines of the Reformation ! Arising in 
different spots, they tell that the scenes of conflict 
belong not alone to Germany, but spread from the 
snowy caps — " those mile-stones that lead to the city 
eternal ' ' — of Switzerland, to the rugged, stony crags 
and peaks of Scotland. 

Catherine Shulz was the wife of Matthew Zell, pas- 
tor of St. Lawrence church in Strasburg. Her nature 
was of the stuff of which despots are made. Rule 
she would, and none dare defy her authority or dis- 
pute her ascendency — not even Matthew. Energetic, 
zealous, cumbering herself, never wearying, never 
ceasing in labor, she was as truly a Martha as ever 
lived. What an immense amount of labor she per- 
formed ! Careful housewives, and all ye hospitable 
mortals, pause for a moment, and think of the work 
(94) 



THE THREE CATHERINES. 95 

of this woman, and surely, in astonished whispers and 
with bated breath, will come the verdict — ;i Well 
done, well done." 

The persecuted flocked to pastor Zell for protec- 
tion, and Catherine did not bid them go, although 
often remaining for weeks. One night, one hundred 
and fifty (150) men came from Brisgau to Strasburg, 
and Catherine opened her doors. She lodged eighty, 
and for the next few weeks had fifty or sixty daily for 
meals. Think of providing for such a company for 
sweet charity's sake ! Nor did she allow this labor to 
interfere with her outside work. The needy, the des- 
titute, the sick, the dying, the dead, those in prison 
and trial, were her care. She was ever ready to help, 
and no refugee could but bless her. Worldly pleasure, 
dress, amusement, were nothing to her, and claimed 
none of her time. 

Peter bids Christ's followers to be clothed with 
humility, and Paul served the Lord with all humility, 
yet herein Catherine Zell failed. Hers was not the 
beauty of unconscious goodness, for she was not in 
ignorance of her worth. On the contrary, she well 
knew its full value, nor did she hide that knowledge 
under a bushel. She preferred the thunder and con- 
fusion of the glowing headlight, to the silence of the 
twinkling star. The catalogue of her virtues was at 
her tongue's end, and very readily slipped off. She 
speaks often of her acts, and says: "I have loved the 



96 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

company of the learned, hence all the pastors and 
distinguished men testify of their affection and respect 
for me. " It is well (or is it not ?) that she could not 
hear their testimony ; could not hear Bucer : ' ' She is 
head over ears in love with herself, " or, " Catherine 
like all of us is too fond of herself. ' ' 

Oliver Wendell Holmes says " Conceit is to the 
human character what salt is to the ocean ; it keeps it 
sweet and renders it endurable." Whether we con- 
sider it a virtue or a fault, we know that the good 
deeds and practical worth of Catherine Zell were 
great enough to remove our thoughts of it alone, as 
we accord to her the praise due to a "true Martha" 
in a time of need. 

Catherine Klein has not so much individuality, yet 
a sweetness of character. From Calvin's words we 
learn that she is pious, chaste, good and gentle. 
There is a sharp contrast between this quiet, humble 
worker, and her more bustling neighbor in Germany. 
Perhaps it was this contrast — for Calvin abode with 
both — that made him anxious to procure humility 
and docility in his own wife. It was in Basle, the 
house of this woman, that Calvin made his Wartburg 
in 1734. Here he fled for safety and quietude; here 
met those eminent men of the Reformation — Capeto, 
Bucer, Erasmus, GEcolampadius — here translated the 
New Testament and studied diligently. Catherine 
loved to listen to him, and tell to others the precious 



THE THREE CATHERINES. 97 

words he spoke to her. Pious, virtuous, modest, her 
good deeds are unrecorded : no history relates them ; 
no epic extols them ; not even an humble lay sings 
their praise. Yet we know, from the few words 
spoken of her, that she was a woman of worth ; that 
there must have been a diffusive happiness, a sympa- 
thy and kindness, and that in her lowly life there were 
deeds of love — that she did her work for the Refor- 
mation in Switzerland as heartily as her contemporary 
in Strasburg. 

At the same time, in far-off Scotland, similar occur- 
rences were taking place ; and here, too, was suffering 
and heroic work. Who has not heard of the martyr, 
Patrick Hamilton? How that in their hatred of him 
the priests attributed all the disturbances in Scotland 
to him? How that finally they demanded that the 
whole family be exterminated; for not until these 
heretics were removed could Scotland regain peace 
and obedience to the church! His brother James 
fled ; but honest-hearted, fearless Catherine remained, 
ready to brave whatever might come. 

She was summoned before the king and the priests 
at Holyrood. The latter, determined to prove her 
heresy, began to question her: "By what do you 
expect to be saved ?" 

And the ready answer came : "By faith in the 
Saviour, and not in works." 

They continued their questioning; and in order to 
7 



98 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

confuse her, and thus to involve her further, as also 
to display his learning, one of the canonists began to 
explain, in theological and scholastic terms, the dif- 
ference between works of congruity, condignity, and 
supererogation. 

Catherine not only tired, but in aggravation, cried 
out: "Works here, works there! What signify all 
the works ! There is one thing alone which I know 
with certainty, and that is that no work can save ex- 
cept the work of Christ my Saviour. ' ' 

Noble, courageous Catherine, well worthy to be the 
sister of the martyr ! The effect on the court was 
wonderful. The priests were crestfallen, and the 
king could not restrain his laughter at their discom- 
fiture. 

Nevertheless, Scotland, her beloved native home, 
with its highlands and glens, could not be a safe 
abiding place, and she was shortly after obliged to 
withdraw to France. 



XVI. 

PAULA AND CLAUDIXE LEVET. 

As the traveler who has visited noted places and 
looked upon renowned objects fraught with historic 
wonder, suddenly chances upon some obscure nook 
and finds there a legend, a tale of beauty or power, 
so we come to the simple, quaint story of Paula and 
Claudine Levet. They are not renowned in annals, 
yet their lives form a pretty tale ; they were full of 
worthy incident. 

John Farel had worked faithfully in Geneva, and, 
seeing the need of a worker there, he influenced 
Anthony Froment to start a school, the chief object 
of which was to spread the Gospel. The plan suc- 
ceeded ; and soon the little talk after the lessons be- 
came the principal part, and many came to listen. 
Paula Levet was among the most enthusiastic of the 
converts, and declared of Froment: " He talks like 
an angel." The cause of Christ became to her the 
dearest aim in life. We know that the feelings of the 
heart must find an outward expression. It is the 
heart that speaks in our deeds. Deeds are the chil- 
dren of thought and feeling, partaking of their pecu- 
liarity, and revealing their character. 
(99) 



100 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Paula, heart-full of the wondrous truth, must act in 
accordance. Her spirit must communicate its won- 
ders to others. Claudine Levet, her relation (their 
husbands were brothers), lived just across the Rhone, 
and to her Paula went with the strange news. She 
besought Claudine to go with her and hear the beau- 
tiful words of the schoolmaster at the Croix d'Or. 
This was not as easy a thing as it is for us to invite 
our relations or neighbors to go to our worship. 
Between the faith of Paula and Claudine there was a 
distinct line, and beyond that to Claudine was the 
black, horrible chasm of heresy. She was full of 
superstition, an ardent Romanist, and dared not over- 
step the border line \ yea, even feared to approach it. 
Much persuasion however, prevailed, and together 
they wended their way to the place of worship. A 
strange sight ! The high-born Paula of the house of 
Bourdigny walking peacefully along, happy in faith 
and hope, and by her side what do we see ? Her 
Romanist sister, fresh rosemary leaves upon her head, 
bedecked with crosses, relics, beads, and other sym- 
bolic mysteries ! These are a preventive, an antidote 
as it were, to ward off heresy. Claudine would not 
dare to enter the house of heretic preaching unless 
well guarded against infection by these amulets of the 
Romish church. Even then a fear filled her heart, 
and it was only the earnest persuasion of her sister 
that overruled her indecision. 



PAULA AND CLAUDINE LEVET. 101 

In the front of the hall, just beyond the preacher, 
they seated themselves, for Claudine must have a con- 
venient place to mock him and show her scorn. How 
vivid the scene is ! She begins industriously to ply 
her beads, crossing herself, muttering prayer after 
prayer, while darting looks of contempt at the 
preacher. Slowly, more slowly, abstractedly, she con- 
tinues : finally the beads lie forgotten ; the lips cease 
to move; her eyes have lost their derision ; and now, 
oblivious of all surroundings, she leans forward eagerly 
to catch the divine message as it falls from the lips of 
the youthful Froment. The service is over, and all 
depart. Claudine remains in silence, looking upon 
the preacher. At length, she speaks: "Is it true what 
you say? Is it a New Testament? Will you lend 
it?" With the book concealed beneath her cloak — 
heresy among the papist charms — she slowly returned 
home, thinking, struggling, wrestling. Forbidding 
any to enter, she locked herself in the room to speak 
to God alone. She was earnest, truthful, and consci- 
entious, and thoughts had been awakened in her be- 
before unknown. For three days and three nights 
her spirit fought and battled, but came forth free. 
Superstition, custom, education, all fell down before 
conscience and truth. Her soul came to light only 
through the darkness of agonizing struggle. 

She immediately sent for Froment to reveal her 
happiness. Their meeting was painful in its joy. 



102 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Madame Levet could not suppress her tears and sobs, 
and could only say: "Ah, can I ever thank God suf- 
ficiently for having enlightened me ! ' ' 

Under new bonds, life assumes different respon- 
sibilities and demands a new course of action. 
Madame Levet felt this, but did not shrink from it. 
She had been excessively fond of dress and display, 
but in the new life these seemed in discord. All her 
ornaments were sold, and the money was given to 
the poor and sent to the evangelical refugees from 
France. Her changed conduct could not escape 
comment. The priests were alarmed, and sought to 
reclaim the wanderer. They were met with Scripture 
which sent them away condemned. Her husband, 
Aime Levet, at first looked upon the change with 
distrust, but seeing the beauty of her life, he too 
crossed the line and stood by her side, both ready to 
do God's work as it came to them, while climbing 
the hill together. 

The greatest astonishment, however, prevailed 
among the Genevese ladies. They looked askance 
at her, for she was a heretic. Her friends — ladies of 
rank — could not associate with an apostate, and 
Madam Levet was forsaken. Still she did not falter, 
but worked steadfastly, with an eye single to duty. 
The curiosity of the ladies was awakened ; they were 
unable to account for her strangely altered life. 
They could not see what had transformed gay Clau- 



PAULA AND CLAUDINE LEVET. 103 

dine, so fond of lavish adornings, into the unselfish 
being, so careful of the poor. They drew nearer, 
and anxious to know the source of the change, ac- 
costed her. A kind reception encouraged them, and 
they visited her, asking her earnestly the cause of her 
new life. 

She gave each a New Testament and urged them to 
study its contents. The mystery was cleared — how 
could they have been so blind ! Visiting the sick and 
poor, receiving the exile, carrying the gospel to all, 
became the work not only of Madam Levet, but of her 
beloved friends. Her true conversion carried the 
power of truth to other souls, and led them to its 
blessing. 

The Gospel spread in Geneva. How often must 
the heart of Froment have turned in thankfulness to- 
wards Claudine and Paula Levet ! Across the Rhone 
Claudine always welcomed him. At her home meet- 
ings were held. Often, in the absence of Froment, 
Claudine would read and explain the Scriptures to the 
hungry listeners. Life did not pass calmly and peace- 
fully with Claudine. Zealous reformers and workers 
meet persecution. The ardent Romanists, hating 
Claudine, were fierce in their desire to injure her. 
They surrounded her house, broke the door of her hus- 
band Aime's apothecary shop, and threw out the 
drugs. In rage they called her names, and exasper- 
ated at her calmness, tried to seize her. The fury 



104 



WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 



increased, and for months Aime languished in prison. 
Sorrow, trial, grief and woe came to her, for religious 
liberty was not. We sing of its glory; yet would we 
know its sublime worth, we should have lived in the 
dark time of Claudine Levet. 



XVII. 

3UARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 

Can it be that a woman in the infamous court of 
Francis I. had sympathy with so serious a thing as the 
Reformation? In that court, where Louise of Savoy 
was the ruling spirit, where intrigue and odious 
scheming prevailed, where licentiousness was a means 
to court-favor and a mark of royalty, where modesty 
and chastity were openly scorned, could a daughter 
of that same unholy Louise have thoughts of the holy 
and the good, or a heart that delighted in pure, true 
religion — and that too, a religion despised and per- 
secuted, the contempt of the court? Yet even so we 
find Marguerite d' Angouleme. It is something 
marvelous and scarcely accountable. Although sister 
of one so weak, wicked and frivolous, that as he lay 
dying the courtiers cried: "The lady-killer is dy- 
ing;" although daughter of Louise, a woman so base 
tl at she sought to control and influence her son 
through his passions, although reared in the same 
court, aye, and the warm friend of the renowned 
Countess de Chateaubriand, in the court where Diana 
of Poitiers and Anne de Pisseleu mingled their fierce 
jealousies — even here, amidst such surroundings and 
(105) 



106 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

influences, Marguerite is a friend of the Reformation ! 
It has frequently been said that Marguerite had rare 
privileges to help the Reformation by her influence 
in high places, and she has been chided for not being 
more active and aggressive in the cause ; but when we 
consider her position, we not only check such re- 
proaches, but marvel that any holy or sacred thoughts 
could have forced their way through the thick, dark 
cloud of such wicked court influences to the heart of 
one of its reigning queens — and that one the very 
nearest to the source of the sin and iniquity. 

From earliest childhood, beginning with the early 
play-days in the old castle at Augouleme, Marguerite 
received the popular French training of the time. By 
her side, throughout these years, was her brother 
Francis, two years her junior; and a deep affection 
was strengthening an influence for the future monarch 
who, at this time, tenderly calls his beautiful sister, 
"my pet, my pearl beyond price." She was passion- 
ately fond of study, particularly of the languages, 
although she mingled poetry, philosophy and divinity 
with the Latin, Italian and Spanish. At the court, 
even amidst that glittering galaxy of beauty, she 
moved a queen, and the fine pen-picture left us con- 
firms the judgment — "dark grey eyes, piercing, deep, 
imperious — finely formed classical nose — full curved 
firm mouth, abundant dark hair, — all combined with 
a stately figure with a royal bearing. ' ' She early fell 



MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 107 

in love with Charles Montpensier — afterward Duke ce 
Bourbon (which love remained during her life), but 
for state reasons various other marriages were planned. 
She was sought for Henry VII. of England, and 
Charles V. of Spain, but Louis XII. arranged her 
marriage with Duke D'Alencon, one far her inferior 
in all noble qualities of heart and mind, with whom 
there was no affinity, and who finally died in disgrace. 
Again disappointed of a union with Duke de Bour- 
bon, she was united to Henri D'Albret, seven years 
her junior, between whom there was much dissimi- 
larity, but there existed one common interest — the 
amelioration of their subjects. 

But after this brief and necessary outline, we turn 
aside from Marguerite's court-life, to note her connec- 
tion with the Reformation. We pass' by the life in 
Normandy in the gloomy old ducal palace, the stir- 
ring events in her career as the sister of a king, the 
mother of kings, herself a queen, to that grander, 
nobler life — Marguerite, as the one hated and feared 
by the bigoted Sorbonne of France, and loved and 
revered by the true-hearted reformers. 

In the frivolity and wickedness of this court, the 
deep nature of Marguerite found no satisfaction. In 
the beautiful castle of Argentan in Normandy, in a 
resplendent dukedom with brilliant society, that peace 
of soul she longed for could not be found. The 
very mockery of the dazzling surroundings, so at 



108 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

variance with her unrest and happiness, drove Mar- 
guerite to seek something real, something true, some- 
thing abiding. In earlier days, she had sought peace 
in writing, but the frivolity and reflex wickedness of 
her world in the Heptameron, did not utter the soul 
of Marguerite. That these novelles received the ap- 
plause of the corrupt court proclaims their style, and 
as the court could not answer the demand of her 
heart, neither could these. In this utter weariness 
and unhappy restlessness she turned to the Word of 
God, and the fresh breeze from the ocean of truth 
breathed new, quick life into her worn spirit, and 
with joy she caught the heavenly strains of that world 
that lies all about us — which we sometimes hear, but 
are often withheld. 

In her court, the venerable Lefevre, ardent Farel, 
Briconnet, and Roussel were spreading their spirit, 
caught from the new Reformation light of Germany ; 
and this influence reached Marguerite. It touched 
the secret restlessness. She read their tracts and 
conversed with them. Their deep philosophy at- 
tracted her, and she listened eagerly to their argu- 
ments. The reasoning and truth touched her, and 
as she listened she learned to sympathize with their 
views and hopes, while the earnestness and eloquence 
of Farel and Calvin aroused her enthusiasm. She 
examined the Scriptures, studied the Gospel, and, in 
her own words, "the light of the Gospel penetrated 



MARGUERITE DE V ALOIS. 109 

my heart; my eyes were opened," and amidst her 
horror of sin she felt a new joy, in which she could 
say: 

" Thou, O my God, hast in thy grace come down, 
To me, a worm of earth, who strength had none." 

Again, she breaks out in glad song, 

" Though poor, untaught and weak I be, 
Yet feel I rich, wise, strong in Thee." 

As the purity and truth of the true religion, as seen 
in the Bible, penetrated her heart, her eyes were 
opened to the abuses and corruption of the Roman 
Church. In December, 1522, she records these sig- 
nificant words in her journal: "By the grace of the 
Holy Ghost, I begin to recognize the hypocrisy in all 
its shapes and colors, from which God in his infinite 
goodness has saved me ; for if Jesus Christ be true, 
this generation is most wicked." 

With no passive interest, but active zeal, she turned 
from the deceit and wickedness of Rome to the purity 
of Scripture teaching — to the new Reformation light. 
Dared she avow herself openly? Dared she espouse 
the cause hated in France? How strong are the 
bonds around her ! There is no harder trial in the 
world than to stand up in the midst of such an envi- 
ronment, to assert ourselves boldly in a truth that is 
contrary to the ideas of those about us, yea, against 
those we love, among whom we have lived and must 
live, to whom we have bowed for counsel — this is a 



110 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

fiery test that tries the very heart and reins of a brave 
nature. This would have been hard for Marguerite, 
yet her courage would have responded to the crucial 
test, had her conviction proved its necessity. Mar- 
guerite had more than herself to consider. She loved 
the King, her brother ; and his interests were to be 
weighed, his position to be preserved. Moreover, 
naturally, she would act with caution. She was the 
King's sister, summoned to his council, accustomed 
to diplomacy, respected by foreign princes — but 
deeper and stronger than all these was her secret con- 
viction, and the hope, too, that the church could be 
reformed without an outward break. Her idea was 
to reform the chitrch without breaking it up. Her 
policy, therefore, was in accordance with this hope. 

Her situation was trying and extremely precarious; 
sometimes reposing in the shade of royal protection, 
at others exposed to the scorching rays of persecution. 
When it was observed that she had taken the marigold 
as her symbol, because it followed the sun in its 
course, typical of the fact that she thus looked to the 
Sun of Righteousness, and adopted the motto, "I 
seek not things below," she became the object of 
secret suspicion. The bigoted Sorbonne were bitter 
against her, and, at one period, the King was told 
that if he had a mind to exterminate the heretics, he 
should begin with the Queen of Navarre. "Let us 
not speak of her," said he. "She loves me entirely; 



MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. Ill 

sue will never believe but what I believe, nor follow 
any religion prejudicial to my state." Nevertheless, 
she feigns not, but walks erect in her conviction ; and 
from the year 1523, when the open persecutions of 
the Lutherans began, she openly declared herself, if 
not their convert, at least their advocate. Her efforts 
in their behalf were unceasing and, during the first 
frightful persecutions of Guise and Louise, she was 
plunged in bitter sorrow, and protected all in her 
power, secretly aiding many. Moreover, when by 
the persecutions of the Sorbonne, her gentle friend 
Lefevre and other counsellors were removed, how 
great must have been her trial to retain the faith, 
standing alone ! Loving the King, fearing to offend 
him or injure his power, longing to help her friends 
in Christ, we can well understand in her letter, " I 
must be mixed up with many things I dread," — this 
letter so touchingly signed, "your cold-hearted, hun- 
gering and thirsting daughter." How great her 
temptations — her struggle ! Tossed to and fro by 
expectation and disappointment; hoping, longing 
that the new translation of St. Paul might mean 
something to Francis and Louise, and then in despair 
to find it was but curiosity that tempted them to read 
it — ever watching for new signs of interest, can we 
doubt that these were trials to wring the heart of the 
most courageous? Her hopes were useless. What 
could so deep a thing as the Reformation mean to 



112 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

such wicked hearts? To them it was but a theolog- 
ical squabble : — what had kingdoms to do with the 
Word of God? Amidst this influence, persecution 
and distress, it was difficult for Marguerite to main- 
tain her belief — how much greater the difficulty to 
actively promote the growth of the Reformation ! 

Notwithstanding this perilous position, Marguerite's 
sympathy brought encouragement and comfort to 
many. Through her friendship for Michael d'Arande, 
Farel, and fellow-reformers, the word spread and 
Christians and confessors of Christ arose in the prov- 
inces. Throughout the land the thought of Mar- 
guerite gave cheer. When one of their number was 
taken, they cried: "Naigret is seized, but thanks to 
God, Madame d' Alencon is on the spot!" The 
church looked to her, and the state laid its claim upon 
her. The statesmen of the age considered her the 
best head in Europe; the friends of the Reformation 
thought of her with loving regard; so church and 
state looked up to her, and in her love for both, she 
longed to reconcile both, to be true to both, to be at 
peace with both. To substitute a living Christianity 
in the place of dead Popery would revive the state 
and unite her two loved ones, and to this work she 
wished to win Francis. She appealed to him through 
his love of scholarship, and he as the " father of let- 
ters" welcomed the learned men, even among the 
Reformers, into his court. Thus she gathered into 



MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 113 

the court some of the deep thinkers of the Reforma- 
tion. Yet, even in the midst of the work, in the 
midst of the persecution, when the Reformation 
needed a friend, Marguerite withdrew. She with- 
drew, however, to render a greater service to the re- 
vival of Bible truth and its growth among men. 

The battle of Pavia is over, and Francis is a pris- 
oner. Marguerite's soul cries, "Christ, son of God, 
save, save my brother." Although she cannot ac- 
tively, personally, directly, promote the Reformation, 
she can now aid it indirectly by rescuing France from 
a more dreadful Romanism. When to Charles V., of 
Spain, the devoted Catholic, it was said, "The French 
army is annihilated, and the King of France is in 
your Majesty's hands," he fell on his knees before 
the Virgin, and hoped now to become master of 
Europe, and sacredly vowed to re-establish, every- 
where, tottering Catholicism. If this had occurred, 
the revival of letters would have been compromised, 
the Reformation checked, the new ideas buried, and 
" the whole world would have bowed helplessly be- 
tween two swords — that of the emperor first, and then 
that of the pope. A shudder ran through all Europe. 
At Naples a devout voice was heard to exclaim, 
'Thou hast laid the world at his feet.' " The mon- 
arch could bind his country from his prison. "Who 
will succeed in removing the threatening storm? 
Erasmus says, "Ce bon ange fut Marguerite de Valois." 
S 



114 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

She undertook the labor. As she knew, and to her 
great grief felt, that the triumph of the plans of the 
monarch of Spain would ruin her hopes, her aim — 
the triumph of the Gospel, she bravely resolved to 
go to Spain, to try personal intercession for the free- 
dom of her brother, and this accomplished, to prevail 
upon that brother to labor with her in the great 
Reformation work. Was not the Reformation dear 
to Marguerite ? and did she not prove it with heroism ? 

At this time France was dreadful to the heretics. 
"The superstitious Catholics wished to appease heaven 
by hecatombs for the loss of Pavia," says one histor- 
ian. Many look for Marguerite to arise, and disap- 
pointment is heard that she does not stay the horrible 
persecution that rages among the followers of Christ. 
Why does not Marguerite befriend them ? She is far 
away in Spain, where with a brave heart she does a 
greater work. Yet even in Spain she keeps an eye 
upon the Reformation in France, and it is through 
her influence that Francis sends commands to France 
to arrest the horrors. The bravery, beauty, and elo- 
quence, the ardent perseverance and earnestness of 
the princess, filled the Spaniards with admiration. 
Erasmus cried enthusiastically, "How can we help 
loving, in God, such a heroine, such an amazon ! " 
By this personal intercession, the evil is averted — the 
catastrophe turned aside. 

Marguerite now determined to help the Reforma- 



MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 115 

tion openly, and relied on Francis. Her heart beat 
high with hope that at last her brother had become a 
co-worker, and that her life-long hope would meet 
happy fulfilment. Poor heart ! — again to bear the 
anguish of disappointment ! Sad days still hovered 
over her. These were days of trial when Briconnet, 
Bishop of Meaux, who had been her chief adviser, 
her spiritual father, stumbled and failed. It is not 
strange that Marguerite yielded to some of the out- 
ward forms of the state religion. For her brother's 
sake she kept up some of her Catholic duties, but she 
did not release her hold upon the Reformation, still 
writing to Calvin, and encouraging his friends. Her 
religious poems at this time show the sorrows of her 
tender, devoted soul, and in these she found conso- 
lation. Her whole soul speaks its distress and seeks 
comfort in pouring forth its fulness in writing in the 
Mirror of a Sinful Soul. Here are found many things 
contrary to the rites of the Roman Church, for there 
is "not. a word of the saints, nor of the merits of 
works, confessional indulgences, nor purgatory, nor 
of salvation except in Christ's blood; nay! the very 
prayer, 'Salve Regina,' was translated into French 
applied to Christ." These things incensed the Sor- 
bonne, and they were bold enough to inveigh against 
her Majesty in their sermons; nay, they carried their 
impudence so far as to act a comedy in the College 
of Navarre, wherein the Queen of Navarre was repre- 



116 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

sented in the shape of a hellish fury. Her book was 
condemned, and she denounced so severely that she 
was obliged to appeal to Francis. 

In later years, after her marriage with Henry of 
Navarre, she was able to work a little more openly. 
Although not thoroughly congenial, Henry and Mar- 
guerite had one common interest in the care of their 
subjects, and to the latter Marguerite spoke of the 
religion of Christ. In the castle the Bible was read, 
the Psalms repeated, and here, as throughout her 
province, the Reformers preached, and the Sacra- 
ment was celebrated. She gathered about her, in her 
court, the intellectual men of the time, musicians, 
poets, painters; and among them the Reformers 
moved in peace. The poor looked to her as their 
friend, and she spread about her the sweet, gentle 
peace of the life in Christ. 

What must we think of Marguerite ? Can we not 
love her for the beauty and loveliness of her character, 
honor her for her convictions, and yield the tribute 
of gratitude for her work in the Reformation ? She 
truly was a friend, and wrought as she could. Al- 
though in the court of Francis she could not openly 
protect the Reformers ; yet that Paris was always well 
provided with three of the best preachers in the king- 
dom, Bertault, Conrault, and Roussel, and that the 
king was at one time so far persuaded as to send for 
Melanchthon, and at another examined the New Tes- 



MARGUERITE DE V ALOIS. 117 

tament, demonstrates that there was some good influ- 
ence at work in the court, doubtless the earnestness 
of Marguerite. Pleading the causes of the Evangel- 
ists, suing her brother for the protection of the 
heretics and for the encouragement of the Reformers, 
writing hymns and sending support and sympathy to 
distressed Christians — all these were worthy efforts 
of Marguerite. Beyond this there is recorded her 
personal influence in the court, among the young 
nobles, attracting many into the paths of the Gospel. 
Here in the brilliant court, her eye was ever on the 
alert to discover souls which she could win to her 
Master. Lords, ladies, men of letters, courtiers, 
scholars, statesmen, could not turn away, but heard 
the words from her sweet and gentle lips, kindly say- 
ing to them — 

"Who would be a Christian true 

Must his Lord's example follow, 
Every worldly good resign, and 

Earthly glory count but hollow ; 
Honor, wealth and friends so sweet, 
He must trample under feet ; 
But alas ! to few 'tis given 
Thus to tread the path of heaven." 

y This secret power, as all secret, silent influence, is 
deeper, stronger, than any of the overt acts and 
assistance given to the cause of Christ by Marguerite. 
Can we fairly estimate her power in the Reformation ? 



118 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

What would have been the sweeping power of Louise 
had not this sister's entreaty withheld the hand, 
again, and again, from signing to the "Extirpation 
of the Lutherans?" Ought we not reverently say 
with Erasmus, "I know, Madonna, that it is not 
necessary to excite you by powerful incentives, and 
that we ought rather to thank you for having pro- 
tected from the malice of the wicked, men of sound 
learning, and all those who love Jesus Christ sin- 
cerely" 

Marguerite has been compared with the great re- 
former — Calvin. D'Aubigne says: " They resemble 
each other in their principal features. They both 
possess faith in the great truths of the Gospel ; they 
love Jesus Christ ; they have the same zeal for spread- 
ing with unwearied activity the truths so dear to 
them ; they "have the same compassion for the miser- 
able, and especially for the victms of religious perse- 
cutions." Level, in his old history of 1737, says of 
her: " Marguerite - is a princess of very exquisite 
parts, whom God had raised to oppose the cruelty 
and bloody designs of them who exasperated the 
King against the pretended heretics." 

Erasmus says, "He hath given her prudence 
worthy of a philosopher, chastity, modesty, piety, in- 
vincible strength of mind, and a marvelous contempt 
for the vanities of the world." Cardinal Wolsey in 
seeking her for Henry VIII. thinks, "There is not in 



MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. 



119 



Europe a woman worthier of the crown of England 
than Marguerite of Valois." We place a more 
glorious crown upon her worthy brow — a chaplet 
woven of love, gratitude, honor, and in sweet remem- 
brance say, " Worthy of love art thou, O pearl of 
pearls — rare Marguerite. " 



fe^ 



XVIII. 

RENEE, DUCHESS OF FERRARA. 

When the great and powerful step over to a weak 
and unpopular cause, they give to that cause a strong 
influence ; but, at the same time, they bring to them- 
selves perils, trouble, risk, and danger. History 
speaks this truth, and even a casual glance at current 
events confirms it. 

Renee was not only noble in social rank, but a 
royal princess, daughter of Louis XII., niece of 
Francis I. of France and his talented sister Mar- 
guerite, one whom Wolsey looked upon as a desirable 
queen for Henry VIII. , wife of one of the renowned 
patrons of the revival of letters. Such a one would 
doubtless be a valuable aid to the Reformation, but 
that aid could be given only with difficulty. 

Her parents died while she was but a child, and 
she was educated under the supervision of Francis and 
Marguerite, in the Romanistic French court. Here 
many circumstances influenced her to incline toward 
the Reformers. In the first place she had an intense 
hatred for the tiara, for state reasons, so that she was 
more susceptible to its evils. She was a hard student, 
even more so than Marguerite, and penetrated to 
(120) 



RENEE, DUCHESS OF FERRARA. 121 

greater depths, not only in language but in astronomy, 
theology, and then fashionable astrology. Accor- 
dingly, she was an ardent admirer, almost worshiper, 
of the learned; and the ignorance of the priesthood, 
brought in contrast with the intellect and culture of 
the Protestants, won her admiration for the latter, 
while it increased her disgust for the former. Then 
there were the brutal scenes, common spectacles in 
Paris, the character of the priests and popes, that 
aroused her sympathy and contempt. Marguerite, it 
may be imagined, would not fail to impart some of 
her deep spirituality and her heretical views to her 
young niece, which, however, took a more practical 
turn in the latter than the mysticism of the former. 
All these things spoke to the reason of Renee, and so 
through conviction she leaned toward the Reforma- 
tion. 

Her marriage dissolved the delightful companion- 
ship of Marguerite and Renee, and the young prin- 
cess became Duchess of Ferrara and departed for 
Italy. She, a woman who Beza says " was called 
to the practice of purest holiness," was mated with 
the son of the brilliant, yet infamous Lucretia Borgia ! 
Hercules, as the rest of his illustrious family, was a 
lover of the fine arts, a most liberal and enthusiastic 
patron — one of the foremost in the revival of letters 
in the sixteenth century. In the beautiful "diamond 
palace of Ferrara," Renee, despite a physical deform- 



122 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

ity, was a most brilliant ornament; for her wondrous 
eye, her inexpressible beauty of manners, and her 
dignity, made her most attractive. Here there was a 
gathering of the learned, of the talented, of much 
genius. She took advantage of the patronage of such 
personages, to gather around her, under cover of patron- 
izing the learned, the friends of the Reformation, and 
her native French. Here Calvin visited her, and that 
firm friendship which lasted until his death was formed. 
He frequently preached in her private apartments, 
and services were held occasionally in the palace. 

This happiness was but the calm before the storm. 
The pope, hearing of Renee's support to the Refor- 
mation, remonstrated with the duke ; and as a result, 
the French were banished from the territory, and 
Renee ordered to renounce. She remained firm, 
and letters from Calvin strengthened her. Other as- 
saults were made. She was confined as a prisoner, 
and threatenings overwhelmed her with grief. Her 
children were taken from her and placed in a nun- 
nery. Her happiness was turned to sorrow. Finally 
she yielded and was released. Great sorrow spread 
among the Reformers, who loved her and relied upon 
her, and Calvin was deeply grieved. Their sorrow 
was removed soon, when they were assured that she 
had but consented to be present at the performance 
of the Roman Catholic services, but not to participate 
in them, nor at the rejection of the new faith. 



RENEE, DUCHESS OF FERRARA. 123 

Hercules died, and for a time there was freedom ; 
but on account of persecution, she was obliged to re- 
tire to the Castle of Montargis. Here, probably, her 
connection with the Reformation was the strongest 
and most helpful. She openly professed her belief, 
and worked energetically to help her distressed 
friends. The French and the Reformers flocked here, 
and formed a little village of worshipers, with regular 
services and perfect freedom of devotions. She read 
the Bible in French to her subjects, and cared for 
their physical welfare. So noted was the work that 
the castle was called Hotel Dieu. Would that the 
last days of this noble, devoted princess might peace- 
fully end, that she might continue her precious work 
in tranquillity ! 

This was made impossible through the persecutions 
of the Duke of Guise — that man so ignominiously 
connected with St. Bartholomew's Eve and the Hugue- 
not massacre. This son-in-law of Renee became hei 
persecutor. Again and again he attacked the village, 
killing the Protestants even while at prayer, and de- 
molishing their property. Renee, in her woman- 
hood, her old age, her nobility, received his harsh 
words and insults. At length, he sent a troop of 
horse against the castle, and the commander an- 
nounced that he "would batter down the castle if 
she did not expel the Protestants." Threatened to 
be rendered homeless, with quiet dignity the verier- 



124 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

able, noble, royal Renee replied : " Consider well 
what you propose to do. If you come, I will be fore- 
most in the breach, and will try whether you will 
have the boldness to kill the daughter of a king. If 
you should commit such a deed, heaven and earth will 
avenge her death on you and on all your line, 
even on the very children in their cradle." The 
Duke dared not brave her denunciation; and his 
courage, not his brutality, failed. She was obliged, 
however, to break up her worshiping village, and con- 
tented herself with supplying food for three hundred 
refugees, sending with them wagons and coaches and 
horses. 

It is most sad to think that after a life of struggle 
to maintain and enjoy her religious freedom, still the 
realization of such a dream failed just as it seemed 
nearest its fulfilment. Whenever we contemplate 
such lives of struggle and final disappointment, or 
even accidentally stumble upon them, we cannot but 
feel a melancholy, a sadness. It is commonly said 
that their life was " a failure," but it is not so. God 
counts the heart's efforts, and the struggles, be they 
ever so vain. Renee, Duchess of Ferarra, most truly 
labored ; and although her latest days saw no visible 
results, we know that her life was noble, heroic, and 
not void of good, for its influence still lives. How 
many souls were cheered and strengthened, how 
many tried hearts led to the source of strength, 



REXEE, DUCHESS OF FERRARA. 125 

through the gentle instrumentality of this devoted 
disciple, is not recorded in human annals. The suc- 
cess of her life is not measured by her own portion 
of happiness, nor by the record of good deeds, but 
by that secret stream of blessing which flowed for the 
healing of many, through her influence — and this 
blessing is immeasurable. A soul, too, that could 
stand for the truth and its defense amid danger and 
persecution, must have in it true elements of greatness*. 




XIX. 

OLYMPIA MORATA. 

Sismondi says of Italy at the close of the sixteenth 
century, that if any piety existed at all, it was to be 
found among the female part of the population. 
Another historian, Folengius, says, " In our age we 
behold the admirable spectacle of women having 
their minds deeply imbued with the knowledge of 
heavenly doctrine — the most learned preacher may 
become more learned and holy by a single conversa- 
tion with some women. I would dilate with much 
pleasure on the many proofs which I received of an 
unction of spirit and fervor of devotion in the sister- 
hood, such as I have rarely met with in the most 
learned men of my profession." At this period Italy 
was the seat of all learning, culture and art. The 
Renaissance was the prelude to the Reformat on, and 
Dante, Petrarch, Boccacio, Savonarola, were the 
voices crying of the new day, forerunners of the new 
kingdom of light about to be ushered in. Florence 
and Rome luxuriated in the magnificence of art, and 
still breathed beauty in the spirit of Angelo and 
Raphael. Pagan magnificence reigned in court and 
palace, and brilliant men and women mingled in gay- 
(126) 



OLYMPIA MORATA. 127 

ety and witty social life. The house of Medici was the 
controlling power and centre of this influence, and it 
was reflected in the palace of Hercules of Este at Fer- 
rara, which vied with Florence in the arts. This was 
the court in which Renee the duchess moved, encour- 
aging the Reformation through the assistance to its 
leaders as men of letters. In this brilliant society the 
women were also noted for their learning — writers 
of poems and letters, those whose words were listened 
to as words of counsel and wisdom, and who shone, 
not only in beauty and brilliancy, but as inspirers 
and helpers. In this court at Ferrara, the court of 
Renee, is one more learned than herself — one gifted, 
beautiful, intellectual, good — Olympia Morata, the 
young instructor of Renee's oldest daughter Anne. 

Olympia Morata, born in Ferrara, 1526, is called 
"1'une des femmes les plus savantes de son sieele." 
She was the daughter of Fulvio Peregrino Morata. a 
professor who had met Curio, the eloquent preacher 
of the true faith in Italy, and from him had learned 
the new thoughts. Olympia was trained to scholar- 
ship by this devoted father, and also at the same time 
imbibed from him the deep and true faith in Christ 
and the Gospel. In the home of Renee, the duchess, 
where Reformers and scholars freely mingled, there 
the faith of Olympia went on from strength to 
strength and spread its light. True to her inner con- 
victions, she could not but spread their sentiment. 



128 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

In this learned court, the brilliant young scholai 
and enthusiastic lover of the reformed religion taught 
in peace and harmony, until the suspicions of the 
Pope led to the suppression of the encouragement of 
the new ideas, and the cruel persecution of their ad- 
vocates. So vigorous were the measures for the de- 
struction of heresy, that all " former severities were 
but child's play compared with its violence." 
Olympia was included in this condemnation, and was 
estranged from the family of Hercules. She would 
have suffered much, but having married a German 
professor, Grunthler, they fled to Germany, limiting 
her sentence to banishment. Grunthler was also a 
believer, and so devoted were these two to the truth, 
that although a position was offered to him in the 
academy at Lintz, an offer appealing strongly to 
them in their poverty and distress, still it was de- 
clined because its great advantages could never atone 
for the loss of liberty of belief. To show the spirit 
of adherence to truth even in the face of advantage, 
read a portion of Olympia' s response to the letter 
offering this post under the Austrian government: 
"Your letter was received with joy, but one scruple 
only arrests us. Without freedom it is impossible for 
us. You are not ignorant that we have voluntarily 
enrolled ourselves under the banner of Christ. The 
oath we took is sacred. Our resolution is firm not to 
assist in Catholic ceremonies." This was truly the 



OLYMPIA MORATA. 129 

spirit which seeks first the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness. 

A professorship opened to him at Schweinfurt, 
and here Olympia renewed her studies. She excelled 
in the languages, and could respond with ease in Latin 
and Greek. At this time, while pursuing these severe 
studies and writing poems and essays, she carried on 
a large correspondence with the Reformers and the 
persecuted Christians in Italy, sending letters of 
cheer, of hope, of comfort and strength, to her com- 
panions enduring the trials of persecution. She 
closely watched the progress of the spreading faith, 
and wrote such full, accurate, animated, truthful 
letters that they bear in them a history, and give quite 
a definite idea of the aspect o-f the Reformation in 
Italy. This is a very useful and noble work in this 
crisis. Olympia was not allowed peace and the 
pleasure of writing here. The place was besieged by 
German princes, and confusion and horror raged. 
Olympia assisted her husband to escape, as his danger 
was greater, and after hiding in a cellar for several 
days, she also escaped with difficulty, "hair dis- 
hevelled, feet bare and bleeding, in a single garment, 
a queen of beggars." All her writings, poems and 
manuscript essays, together with her library, were de- 
stroyed. The Elector Palgrave gave her husband a 
place in the University of Heidelberg, and her 
literary friends united in sending her books to replace 
9 



130 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

the loss. The shock of that dreadful siege and es- 
cape had been too great for one already worn out 
with trial and adversity. A lingering illness fol- 
lowed, in which she displayed a sweetness of dispo- 
sition and a strength of faith and truth ; and in 1555, 
at the early age of twenty-nine, the gifted, the bright, 
but tried and suffering Olympia Morata died. Many 
of her poems, which she repeated to Curio from 
memory, were published by him after her death. 
There were Latin and Greek poems, a paraphrase of 
the Psalms, but her chief literary usefulness is in the 
letters reflecting the spirit and condition of the times. 
Olympia Morata has now a name in the Reforma- 
tion. What is the place given to her ? It is not 
such as that of her cotemporary and friend, Renee, 
to spread the Gospel light and increase the strength of 
its growth by the influence and power of position and 
material assistance ; neither is it that of Katherine 
Von Bora, or Idelette de Bures, or Anna Reinhard, 
to assist the great leaders by personal tender sympa- 
thy and encouragement ; nor yet that of Anne Askew, 
to pass through martyrdom and death. The work 
of Olympia resembles more nearly the work of woman 
of the nineteenth century — that of a moral force to 
quicken, lighten, cheer and spur others in a great 
cause. To the stragglers in Italy she wrote letters 
full of love and strong words ; and through these she 
sought to help others. To her friend, the Princess 



OLYMPIA MORATA. 131 

Lavinia, she wrote: "I beg you to read this letter 
to Vittoria, exhorting her by precept and example to 
honor and confess God ; read also along with her 
the Holy Scriptures. Entreat my dear lady L. to 
peruse frequently a portion of them, and so she will 
experience the efficacy of the Word of God." There 
are many signal passages in these letters showing the 
sincerity of her mind. She says: "All false opin- 
ions, all errors, all disputes, arise solely from not 
studying the Scripture with sufficient care." " Never 
consider who the person may be that speaks to you, 
but examine whether she speaks the words of God or 
her own words ; and, provided the Scripture and not 
the authority of man be your rule, you will not fail to 
discover the path of duty." In this manner she 
spread the influence of an earnest and a noble spirit. 
Moreover, she has an added influence in the in- 
sight into the life of the time which she has left us. 
She herself in her own character is a living witness of 
the state of society at that period — a type of the 
learned, cultured lady from the circle of the Medici, 
and also an example of the power of the Gospel even 
under such influences. She was learned, and first 
began to appreciate the sacred writings through her 
love for the old Fathers. At first, she said, " There 
is no greater treasure than wisdom." Later her 
changed heart humbly said, "I considered myself wise 
because I was learned in the books of this world, 



132 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

until my eyes were opened to see the deep ignorance 
and forgetfulness of true wisdom, which alone is 
worthy ; and almost I would have lost the God-like in 
my pride of wisdom." In this pursuit of scholarship 
she still held her love for Christ as the most precious 
attainment. Amidst hardest griefs, borne for the 
sake of that love, she still held it as " better to suffer 
with the Lord, than without him to possess the whole 
world." She writes in a beautiful faith: " For 
eleven years has the enemy not a day left off his 
temptations to turn me from the true faith, but now 
he appears to have shot all his arrows, and I find 
nothing in my heart but the peace of Jesus Christ." 
This was shortly before her death. It is not strange 
that the historian records : " Sie ist eine der sel- 
tensten und shonsten Bliithen von Baum des Evan- 
gelium in Italia." 

Among the Reformation annals the name of Olym- 
pia Morata is found ; among the factors in its growth 
let her place be given — a place peculiarly her own. 
Although politically she is not known, nor as one 
amidst the struggle and terror of the conflict and 
strife, yet she lives among the blessed number who 
make the world's cares and trials easier by sympathy 
among those who, while passing through fiery trials 
for the sake of truth, still reach forth a tender help to 
a fellow-sufferer ; she is one who is at once a comfort 
and an inspiration — one who, whispering the gentle 



OLYMPIA MORATA. 133 

word of solace, utters the earnest word for the onward 
struggle. Rahel Varnhagen von Ense will be known 
as long as Carlyle's essays continue their quickening, 
fertilizing, developing power ; yet she did nothing 
great, wrote nothing beyond personal letters, was 
never brought among the active events of the world, 
nor into prominence or distinction. Notwithstand- 
ing, her influence was of a marvelous kind, touching 
the great soul of Jean Paul, quickening the genius of 
Goethe ; and this power among thinkers was greater 
in inspiration than any daring deed or great act could 
have been. She remains for all ages as one gifted 
above all others in this secret, subtle power of awak- 
ening a spirit and thought in others — the power of 
inspiring ; she is the ideal type of a host of women 
who live in the world to make it greater and better by 
rousing thoughts and emotions in others — one pecu- 
liarly gifted with this gift peculiar to womanhood. 

Olympia Morata had a quality all her own and a 
work single to her. She had not the open influence 
of the powerful, but aided the spread of the kingdom 
in individual hearts, if not over the great world. 
Some of earth's great ones extend goodness through- 
out the earth and work with power to the ends of it ; 
but just as great — though it be not so broad — is that 
gift to speak goodness to the individual heart. 
Olympia Morata is among these of earth's worthy 
ones. Such a sweet influence was she to the hearts 



134 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

of the women of Italy, to souls tried amid persecu- 
tions, tried for the sake of that religion which was to 
them precious as light, for it had illumined the dark- 
ness of Romanism. 

Amid all the hurry and whirl of the material world, 
when only deeds of glory, or great actions, can catch 
the notice of the rushing mass of the eager pursuers 
of gain, a life of quiet influence, even though it bear 
an under-current of secret power, speaks not in tones 
to be heard above the roaring maelstrom of present, 
engrossing action. Through all its din and clangor, 
the hushed profundity of secret, silent force is seldom 
contemplated ; yet, nevertheless, this is an influence 
which lives and works forever. The influence of such 
a life has entered into things eternal, has become a 
part of them. This secret power of inspiration is an 
eternal thing, and will live in its solemnity throughout 
an eternity which belongs not to the acts, however sig- 
nificant, of passing time. Men have labored and 
and struggled and made for themselves great things, 
yet all passes away, nor shall any voice awake from it 
in the ages. A humble life, breathing help to human- 
ity, one thought to another, has scattered eternal 
seed. This life of Olympia Morata will utter this 
truth far into the future. 



XX. 

JEANNE D'ALBRET. 

It is said that every man's failure is a stepping- 
stone to another man's success. One feels the phi- 
losophy of the assertion when visiting the Patent 
Office in Washington. We see there the thousand 
schemes of men's brains which have never resulted in 
anything — some even appear to be queer freaks of 
half-demented minds — and it seems a sad thing that 
these dreams and hopes have brought nothing but 
failure. Yet these failures have counted in the pro- 
gress of the age. Mrs. Browning says : 

"Be sure no earnest work 
Of any honest creature, howbeit weak, 
Imperfect, ill-adapted, fails so much, 
It is not gathered as a grain of sand 
To enlarge the sum of human action used 
For carrying out God ; s end. ;; 

And so the poor, feeble idea in these follies has 
been a grain of sand to make up the sum in the full, 
rounded, complete action. Others have caught the 
germ of tne idea and developed it farther, and this 
has created a better foundation for another, until, fin- 
ally, the failures have revealed the lurking truth to 
(135) 



136 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

the mind of a genius, who, building upon failure, has 
attained success. In crowning success, let us give to 
the failures the due tribute, and acknowledge even 
imperfect work for the sake of the earnest effort. So, 
in a great cause, some are not permitted to stand 
forth as bold champions of truth, but by their at- 
tempts, although failures, to reach perfect independ- 
ence in action, they have cut down the brush at the 
foot of the mountain, and opened the way for others 
to stand on the summit. 

This was an added power to the work of Marguerite 
de Valois, by which her influence lived in the broader 
life of her daughter, Jeanne d'Albret. Marguerite 
could not stand upon the heights in the free air, but 
Jeanne could never have risen to such an altitude of 
power had not her mother, Marguerite, cleared the 
path for her to walk in, and opened the possibilities 
for power and effort for her to use. Without the 
work of Marguerite, the work of Jeanne would have 
been impossible. Marguerite had to contend against 
the wicked influences of the infamous court of Louise 
of Savoy, and Jeanne against the intrigues of the 
scheming Catharine de Medicis. Yet the mother had 
purchased a freedom for the daughter, who also had 
the wise guardianship of her noble and spiritual 
mother. The early years of Jeanne were free from 
this influence, for although Francis used every effort 
to secure court training for her, Marguerite knew its 



JEAXXE D' ALBRET. 137 

dangers, and shielded her child from the dreadful 
contact, and surrounded her with Christian teachers. 

An event in the early life of Jeanne shows the 
power that binds the royal princess, and her helpless- 
ness. When but twelve years old she was married to 
the Duke of Cleves, he departing to continue his 
wars, she to complete her education. At the time 
Jeanne entered public and private protestations 
against the marriage; and when three years later the 
Duke made a dishonorable treaty, she again denied 
its claims, when the Pope annulled the decree. In 
1548, at the age of twenty, she was married to Philip 
of Vendome, elder brother of Conde of Huguenot 
renown, who was nearest the throne next to the issue 
of the reigning King of France. 

During her childhood and young womanhood, 
Jeanne lived with her mother at Beam. Under her 
influence and the combined power of the sweet com- 
panionship with her and Renee of Ferrara, and -the 
instructions of Roussel, she perceived the beauty of 
the new religion, and was inclined to receive it. 
She did not then cast off the old religion, however, 
and not until after the death of her father does she 
come out boldly as a believer and an advocate. We 
see the wise policy of her action in a letter written a 
few days after her coronation, and we catch another 
glimpse of the suffering Marguerite. She writes to a 
Reformer: " Well do I remember that the king, mon- 



138 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

sieur my honored father and lord, hearing that the 
queen, my mother, was engaged in prayer in her own 
apartments, with the ministers Roussel and Farel, 
entered and dealt her a blow on the right cheek, 
while he soundly chastised me with a rod, forbidding 
me to concern myself with matters of doctrine; the 
which treatment cost me many bitter tears, and held 
me in dread until his decease. At the present moment, 
however, free by his demise, two months ago, and in- 
cited by the example of my cousin the duchess of Fer- 
rara, it seems to me that reform is as reasonable as it is 
necessary ; so much so that I deem it disloyal coward- 
ice toward God, toward my conscience, and toward 
my people, to halt longer in suspense and perplexity. ' ' 
Jeanne had firm conviction of the truth, but her 
fine womanly tact and wisdom, the old directions of 
her thoughtful mother, forbade her entering at once 
into the cause. For five years she held aloof, while 
Antoine, her husband, was full of zeal, and not only 
refused to attend - the Papal ceremonies, but ostenta- 
tiously attended the Reformed worship, established by 
Marguerite at Pau. His religion, however, was the 
quickly-kindled flame which blazes forth, and dies 
when fanned by an adverse wind ; and when his 
kingdom was threatened, he hastened to accept the 
flattering promises of the Roman Catholics, deserting 
not only the religion he had so ardently served, but 
the wife who nobly refused to yield or accept terms. 



JEAXXE D' ALBRET. 139 

The very catastrophe that shook the feeble faith of 
the weak Antoine drove Jeanne to active alliance 
with the defenders of the Reformation, and a firmer, 
more trusting faith in God. When Pope Paul IV. 
invested Philip II. of Spain with the sovereignty of 
her ancestral dominion, Navarre, she formally em- 
braced Calvinism, and arrayed herself on the side of 
the Reformation, prepared to contend for both. The 
work of woman is generally a silent influence ; but 
here we see a woman in the Reformation, boldly 
standing up amid all its terror and struggles, bravely 
choosing its conflicts, sustaining her part valiantly — a 
hero in the strife, with all the true heroism, fearless 
courage, and intrepid valor of a hero. Jeanne was 
high-spirited, and of that brisk nature that demands 
action ; and having espoused the cause, she prepared 
to defend it. She rode about her dominions, levying 
troops, fortifying cities, strengthening garrisons, and, 
at the same time infusing life and enthusiasm into her 
soldiers by her inspiring presence and encouraging 
words. 

Antoine, the unworthy brother of that brave de- 
fender of the faith, Conde, worked bitterly against 
her. Catharine de Medicis urged her to attend the 
mass at least, to soften his anger and retain the king- 
dom for her son. To this proposal she cried, '"Had 
I my kingdom in one hand, and my son in the other, 
I would throw them both into the depths of the sea, 



140 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

rather than go to mass." Surrounded by spies, 
threatened with seizure and imprisonment, she was 
obliged to call upon Conde and the Huguenots for 
protection. Antoine was wholly under the influence 
of the Guises ; yet notwithstanding the plots and 
hatred of this party, Jeanne remained "safe under the 
protection of the Huguenots, and was vigorous in 
aiding reformers in vaiious sections, in rescuing the 
persecuted in Beam, and spreading the truth among 
her subjects. She was freed from these persecutions, 
and her son restored to her, at the death of Antoine, 
who, upon his deathbed, returned to his early con- 
victions, and died professing faith in the truths of the 
Reformation. 

Jeanne was now able to act more independently, 
and determined to establish the reformed religion in 
her territory. She issued her celebrated edict abol- 
ishing the Roman Catholic worship, and adopting the 
Calvinistic faith. A second edict provided for schools 
to teach the Reformed doctrines, and a third de- 
stroyed images and idolatry. She sent to Geneva for 
the famous minister, Sieur Merlin, and for twenty 
others, to instruct her subjects. The Papal legate of 
Navarre wrote a protestation, but she wrote and pub- 
lished a reply, defending her actions, which was so 
renowned for its brilliancy and eloquence that univer- 
sal admiration was accorded to it. Rome saw and 
feared the power in Jeanne. A prosecution was 



JEANNE D' ALBRET. 141 

raised, and she was summoned to Rome to answer the 
charge of heresy — the summons to be disregarded at 
the risk of losing "her royal dignity, kingdom, prin- 
cipalities, sovereignties and possessions." Nothing 
awed, Jeanne appealed to France, which concluded 
that the Pope was taking too great authority over 
crowned heads, and reminded his holiness that the 
consequences of proceeding to extremities with the 
Queen of Navarre would be to re-open civil war. 
Jeanne kept on in her course undisturbed, sending 
forth edicts and inflicting penalties upon those reject- 
ing the established religion. This action has been 
condemned, but Jeanne was bitterly persecuted, and 
her nature was ardent even to extremes, especially 
under provocation. The Romanists kept her king- 
dom in dissensions, but her character rose to every 
occasion ; for with her profound conviction, mental 
energy, and persistent effort, she combined endurance, 
courage, faith, hope, and worked on never faltering. 
Her broad sympathies led her to help the cause out- 
side of her own dominion. A civil and religious wai 
now raged in France — it was just previous to St. Bar- 
tholomew's da}* — and the clouds muttered ominously. 
At first Jeanne stood aloof, but her spirit was aroused 
and kindled, and she resolutely joined the Huguenots, 
under Conde. This involved sacrifice. Her small 
kingdom of Navarre, situated on the borders of France 
and Spain, was contested ground, and a peculiarly open 



142 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

field for war and invasion. "The loss of the crown 
of Navarre and of his ancestral possessions to her son, 
exile and poverty to herself, were the price she might 
have to pay for her heroic devotion ; ' ' nevertheless 
she sends word that she will join Conde at Rochelle, 
writing, "I have openly engaged to follow the pro- 
fession of the Reformed faith, and to peril my crown, 
my dominion, and my son, to insure its public exer- 
cise, and the safety of all its professors. You, who 
like myself are firmly built up in the faith, must set 
an example of fortitude and resignation. The eternal 
God rejects the weak and faint-hearted. The blessed 
hour is at hand when those who are of Israel must 
risk the loss of earthly goods to build temples wherein 
God may be adored in spirit and in truth." 

The cause calls her. After taking the sacrament 
in her chapel at Nerac, she set out to meet Conde, 
attended by her son and daughter, and fifty knights. 
Passing through towns and villages, her courageous 
spirit spread, and troops gathered from all sides. 
She eluded the spies of Queen Catherine, and entered 
Rochelle on horseback amid great enthusiasm. The 
mayor and magistrates met her and gave her the keys 
of the town. At a council, the command of the 
army was given to her son Henry, and she undertook 
the government of Rochelle and the neighboring 
province, together with the financial affairs of the 
war. With a firm hand and wise counsel she guided 



JEANNE D' ALBRET. 143 

and controlled. A greater work was still demanded. 
The battle of Jarnac was fought, and Conde was 
dead. The whole army was in despair and disorder. 
Jeanne wept bitterly ; but shaking off her distress, she 
arose in heroic determination, fearing to falter in the 
hour of peril. She hastened to the stricken army at 
Cognac. Riding up and down among the soldiers, 
her son, the Prince of Navarre, on one side, and the 
son of the dead Conde on the other, she called upon 
all loyal hearts to rise to action. They gather in a 
circle about her, hailing her with enthusiasm, and a 
new spirit spreads through the camp. D'Aubigne 
extols her influence over the Huguenot soldiery, and 
as Jeanne rode among them in her beauty and 
bravery, her clear voice ringing out in words of cheer 
and help, it is not strange that a new will possesses 
them, and a new courage wakens in drooping hearts ; 
and as a new.spirit is breathed, aided by her counsel 
they move onward with new ardor. Thus Jeanne 
stood in the midst of the storm and strife in the 
Reformation. 

In her home province, her careful measures and 
wise provisions began to show in the welfare of the 
people. She had the New Testament translated for 
the use of her subjects. She continued the work of 
her mother in opening schools, colleges and hospitals. 
Beggary and crime, poverty and drunkenness, were 
suppressed, and art, science and literature were culti- 



144 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

vated. The general condition of the people was 
greatly elevated and improved. Says Felice, "Even 
now, at the end of three centuries, the people of 
Beam pronounce the name of the good queen, who so 
greatly raised the prosperity of their country, with an 
affectionate veneration." 

This bold defence of her faith rejected all papal 
superstitions in the hour of death. Although in Paris, 
and with Catherine, she ordered their removal, saying, 
"I believe that Christ is my only Saviour and Medi- 
ator, and I expect salvation through no other." 

"The good queen " won a three-centuries' venera- 
tion by being true to the elements of heroism that 
were inherent in her nature. It is well that succeed- 
ing nations recognize it, and that their souls are stirred 
to vaster issues by that veneration. It is a great good 
that the world recognizes nobility of character, and 
bows before it. It is, as Carlyle says, "a fact inex- 
pressible ; the most solacing fact one sees in the world 
at present. There is an everlasting hope in it for the 
management of the world. Had all traditions, ar- 
rangements, creeds, societies, that men ever instituted, 
sunk away, this (' hero worship ') would remain. The 
certainty of heroes being sent us; our faculty, our 
necessity, to reverence heroes when sent: it shines 
like a pole star through smoke clouds, dust clouds, 
and all manner of down -rushing and conflagration." 



XXI. 

THE WOMEN OF SPAIN. 

What did the Reformation bring to the women of 
Spain ? Jn the foremost files of time, holding in our 
hands the riches of the ages, we look backward to 
that day of woe, knowing that to it we owe our en- 
larged existence. Nearer to that crowning race that 
shall stand eye to eye with knowledge, from the sum- 
mits of a higher life we see and acknowledge our 
greater light as born out of deep darkness. To us 
the Reformation has brought freedom from the bonds 
which barbarous ages had laid upon womanhood, 
and, no longer appointed to degradation and ignor- 
ance, knowledge and usefulness quicken to a nobler 
life. Knowledge is now no more a fountain sealed, 
and, as the free woman dips into its waters, drinks 
deep, the habits of the slave, the sins of emptiness, 
gossip, spite and slander die, and the heart responds — 
"Better not be at all than not be noble." Enlarged 
womanhood rises from the narrow life of the fettered 
slave, and as the fields broaden, and life, in its aim, 
work and power, approaches the ideal time of St. 
Paul, when there is neither male nor female, but all 
are one in Christ, she stands erect as God designed 
10 (145) 



146 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

her, working with free hand and heart for the pro- 
gress of good in the world. What has the Reforma- 
tion brought to us ? All that gives the wider outlook, 
the broader forehead, the swifter vision, the nobler 
action, the universal sympathy, has been brought by 
the Bible light of the Reformation day. What did it 
bring to the women who lived in the day of its dawn- 
ing, who sat within the shadow of its greatness? 
Aye, they stood too near its dark night to know its 
glory, too near its greatness to enjoy its blessings. 
The darkest hour is before the dawn, and the dweller 
upon the rocky steeps knows naught of the beauty 
and grandeur of the mountain. So the women who 
lived too near the Reformation were unconscious of 
its power to bless the outer life. To them it brought 
the same inner life of strength and joy in Christ, but 
also a grief unutterable, woe immeasurable, darkness, 
death. To the women of Spain it brought the agony 
and terror of the Inquisition, the torture of the rack, 
the shame of the auto da fe> and the horror of the 
stake. 

That the Bible ever found its way into bigoted 
Roman Catholic Spain, shows its power to penetrate 
darkness. When Luther's writings crossed the moun- 
tains and began to spread among the people, the 
Church reached forth an iron hand to crush those 
irresistible writings which were scattering the truth 
broadcast throughout the kingdom. Still the truth 



THE WOMEN OF SPAIN. 147 

found eager acceptance until, as M'Crie says, "Per- 
haps there never was in any other country so large a 
proportion of persons, illustrious either for their rank 
or their learning, among the converts to a new and 
proscribed religion." It so won the scholars of Spain 
that Valera says it is a common proverb to speak of 
a learned man as in danger of being a Lutheran. 

Here was hope for the future prosperity of Spain, 
yet she knew it not; — here was the tide which taken 
at the flood might have led on to fortune, but, 
omitted, all has since been bound in shallows and in 
miseries. Spain did not recognize the day when the 
angel of the Lord passed over the land to help her. 

Superstitious, bigoted Spain, awoke every energy to 
crush the spreading heresy. Notwithstanding guard 
and penalty, the Bible in the vernacular found its way, 
concealed amid goods, through the guarded ports. 
But it must be stopped, and the Inquisition was called 
upon to do it. Its dread power created terror on all 
sides, and multitudes fled into Germany, Switzerland, 
Holland. It seized thousands, grinding as to dust, 
with torture, fire, the lash, the galleys. Can we doubt 
that many turned again to the Church for safety, and 
that multitudes hid their faith in their hearts, con- 
forming to the observances of the Church? Still we 
have the record of brave hearts. It seems incredible 
that a nation in the sixteenth century could use such 
practice, and that other nations of enlightenment and 



148 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

civilization would suffer the inhumanity of a barbar- 
ous age to exist among them. But the world was in a 
state of transition, confusion, internal disorder, irrup- 
tion, change; and each land gazed upon its own 
shame and sorrow. Yet none is dyed in so deep a 
disgrace as Spain. 

" In the chronicles of Spain, 
Down the dark pages runs this stain, 
And naught can wash them white again, 
So fearful is the tragedy." 

A tragedy — for the sake of a belief! Among the 
Christian evidences we read that shown by the death 
of the disciples. The disciples were persecuted for a 
belief — they would never have held to it had it 
been only an opinion, for no man will die for an opin- 
ion. So the suffering or death of every martyr is 
an evidence of the truth of Christ — every sacrifice 
proclaims a faith dearer than life, and speaks of the 
secret power of that faith. Deep must have been the 
conviction, and strong the faith in those Spanish wo- 
men, suddenly seized and thrust into cells like graves. 
Says M' Crie, ' ' Nothing can be conceived more fright- 
ful than the situation of the individual immured in 
them, left as he is in conjecture ; shut out from every 
kind of intercourse with his friends; denied even the 
consolation of conversing confidentially with the per- 
son to whom his defense has been entrusted ; refused 
all use of books; afraid if he has a fellow-prisoner 



THE WOMEN OF SPAIN. 149 

for a few days to do more than exchange salutations 
with him. lest he should be confiding in a spy; threat- 
ened if he hums a tune, and especially a sacred one, 
to relieve his languor; plunged during the rigor of 
the winter months in total darkness for fifteen hours 
of every day m an abode that never saw the blaze of 
a fire; and, m fine, knowing that if ever he should be 
set free, he must go out to the world lost forever in 
public opinion, and loaded with an infamy heavier 
than that of the pardoned assassin or parricide." Add 
to these the worriments of the priests, expostulations, 
passionate appeals, all that the human heart most fears 
or feels, the hurried trial in darkness and mystery, 
the cruel ordeal of torture by rack or pulley, and the 
final public execution. Whilst we shudderingly turn 
from such horrors, "none of which," says Llorente, 
"can be accused of exaggeration," and while we veil 
our faces in shame that such cruelty and shamelessness 
could exist in the human race, to which we belong, 
yet as we think of the brave hearts and loyal natures 
who endured, we raise our eyes again in gladness that 
in that same human race there lives truth and cour- 
age and a heroism that meets all things for truth's 
sake. Such steadfast courage restores our faith in the 
divine existing in the human. To these women of 
Spain, who stood erect, firm in faith amid storm and 
disaster, we bow in reverence, and as the thought of 
their evil day sends a quiver of pain through our 



150 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

hearts, we silently bless them for their greatness in 
that sorrow — a sorrow too sacred for words, too deep 
for tears. 

Spain withstood the mighty force of the Reforma- 
tion. With power it swept over the world and 
changed the face of things — the life of nations, the 
character of the people. Haughty Spain boasts the 
triumph that Catholicism won over heresy, and to-day 
rejoices in the firm establishment of the Roman 
Catholic religion. Yea, the truth grows not in 
wickedness ; and as it withdrew from Spain, to what 
has it left the nation? Spain spurned truth, and 
what has she chosen? The result is the just reward. 
Spain, rich in native wealth, with a third of the world 
in her possession, has become poor. " Every street 
in Salamanca swarms with sturdy beggars and vaga- 
bonds able to work. With a soil which by its extent 
and fertility is capable of supporting an equal number 
of inhabitants, the population of Spain is not one-half 
that of France. ' ' Poverty has followed the narrowed 
life of religion with no deep conversion or conviction. 
What is the effect on national character? Super- 
stition or bigotry, hypocrisy or infidelity, reigns in 
the heart and speaks in the life; and no great heroes, 
no great deeds, no great literature, no great art, re- 
deems the land from utter insignificance. To those 
who love darkness rather than light, the sun veils its 
beauty and benefice, the light and all its blessings. 



THE WOMEN OF SPAIN. 151 

Spain boasts of having extirpated the Reformed re- 
ligion from her territory, but she has little reason to 
congratulate herself on the consequences of her blind 
and bigoted policy. She has paid and is still paying 
for her folly and crimes by the loss of civil and re- 
ligious liberty with all their manifold blessings, and 
in the degradation to which she has sunk among the 
nations. Individually, the mistake of Spain is made 
by many. From this leaf of history let the individual 
learn that the only broad, true, heroic life lies in a 
true choice of the guiding principle. 



©/P 



XXII. 

LEANOR DE CINEROS. 

The extremity of the means which Spain used to 
stay the rising flood of the Reformation truth shows 
the degree of her hatred and fear of it. It was the 
intense hatred begotten of fear. Rage and super- 
stition are lawless leaders; and once in the whirl of 
persecution, the blinded nation knew not its own 
madness. There was insanity in the freaks venting 
its frenzy. Even the dead were not sacred from the 
profane touch of passion, for hatred so consumed 
every germ of reverence that death and the grave set 
no barrier to the headlong fury of Spain. Leanor de 
Vibero was dead; but it was whispered that Luth- 
eran doctrines had lived in that heart now hushed in 
death. What now must we think of the baseness and 
puerility of a nation that will go through all the forms 
of a trial of the deceased, and, finding the dead 
person guilty, condemn the body to be exhumed and 
burned with an effigy of the woman now beyond the 
reach of the Inquisition ? If the deed were not so 
ghastly, so irreverent that it calls forth our horror, 
we would think of such a spirit with contempt and 
scorn. In their fury, the house of the same Leanor was 
(152) 



LEANOR DE CINEROS. 153 

razed to the ground, the ruins strewn with salt, and a 
marble column erected on the spot to speak a warning. 
Aye, it is a warning, speaking of the ignorance and 
wickedness of man, and is to Spain not a memorial 
of honor, but of her shame ; while to the Reformation 
it is a bright memorial of true souls that loved truth 
for its own sake, of whom there will ever live some- 
thing more lasting than marble, more enduring than 
gold, and which the flight of time cannot destroy. 

Worn and hard beset with sorrows is the tale of the 
women in Spain, who clung to divine truth when 
almost lost amid falsehood, and put far off by cruelty. 
The story of one is the story of many, and the secret 
sum of all is " suffering. ' ' Human nature is not the 
same in the powers of endurance. Although the pain 
of the trial may be equal in intensity, still there is 
often a constitutional weakness or natural shrinking 
from acute pain, and the spirit sinks beneath it ; 
stronger souls may stand beneath the same trial, and 
meet death face to face. The inherent weakness of 
the former produces double suffering — the pain of the 
trial and the added agony begotten of that weakness, 
clinging doubts, present fears, more horrible imag- 
nings, shame, reproach, remorse. That same sensi- 
tiveness to physical pain which caused them to falter, 
is accompanied by a corresponding delicacy to 
mental suffering. Of this sensitive nature was Leanor 
de Cineros — what a soul to meet the Inquisition ! 



154 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

The band of spies, of which there were over twenty- 
thousand scattered throughout the kingdom, some 
even in the very sanctity of the home, suspected the 
heresy of Leanor and her husband. Suspicion meant 
death. The love which had united these two young 
people had been strengthened by their love of God. 
The Scripture and its gentle teachings made the 
happiness of their home purer and higher. In the 
midst of these early joys they were seized, separated, 
and cast into prison. The beautiful home gone! 
Sunshine and gladness became gloom and woe! 
Months of darkness, doubt and fear followed. A 
strange sad story of a multitude of souls, a strange 
commentary on Papal civilization — cruel, barbarous 
as Comanche and Modoc. 

These hours in the cell! Nothing known, and 
nothing but the mysterious fact of death certain. 
Accusation by secret denunciation; sentence without 
hearing ; execution without mercy or appeal, or a life 
worse than death. Terrible hours! In the death 
alone, terrible beyond utterance ; * in the manner of 
death, with its secret intangible mysteries, more ter- 
rible still ; in the treachery that made the neighbor a 
disguised foe, most horrible ! And then the saved — 
those who escaped the harder fate — mangled, bleed- 
ing, torn, disgraced. Bleeding backs, broken limbs, 
ruined lives, desolate homes ! Ah, the sorrows of this 
silent destruction — graver than that of the stormy 



LEANOR DE CINEROS. 155 

battlefield. O, the undertone of tragedy in the 
glorious Reformation ! Chords that vibrate highest 
measure thrilled with deepest notes of woe ! 

In the lonely cell, a prey of dejection, deceived and 
worried by priests, sick and tormented by torture and 
coercion of the rack, the youthful Leanor faltered, 
and, in a moment of weakness, recanted. The dreary 
months passed ; the day of the auto defe came. The 
penitents made part of the procession which accom- 
panied the heretics to the place of execution. 
Leanor, in the penitential gown, took her place in 
the ranks, her heart heavy with grief, but still cherish- 
ing the one hope of seeing Herezuelo soon. To that 
moment she looked with eager longing. 

The day was usually celebrated as a holiday. The 
people thronged the streets in gay attire, ready for 
the scenes of the day, in their bigotry rejoicing, 
gayly viewing all the sad preparations for death. 
Down the streets wound the brilliant procession, 
headed by the Roman cross. Then came a long line 
of the clergy in white and black, crimson and gold; 
next were the magistrates and great men in gorgeous 
robes and golden ornaments; afterward, the nobles 
on prancing horses, the choristers chanting the liturgy 
to the sound of the trumpet ; and in the midst walked 
the martyrs, clad in black robes painted with yellow 
streaks representing flames; by their side the Black 
Friars, talking fast and loud, with many gesticulations, 



156 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

tormenting them to recant. The colors of banners 
and robes, the lances of the soldiers and glancing 
gilt of standards, the jewels of the ladies under bril- 
liant canopies, the holiday dress and holiday tone 
among the multitude, made the scene gay. 

Such was the auto de fe that closed the months of 
the trial of Leanor and her husband. All the pris- 
oners, penitents and heretics were marched to the 
spot to witness the execution — to the scaffold in the 
midst of the square. A great green cross towered 
above and marked it out, and twelve tapers added 
their flickering glimmer. The procession neared the 
spot, and eagerly the eyes of the prisoners sought 
each other in this moment of meeting, each searching 
for the friend and loved one. Leanor and her hus- 
band had not heard a word from each other since 
the dreadful morning when separated, and now the 
moment had come to which both had been looking. 
Anxiously, their eyes wandered among the prisoners 
— O woe ! the eager eyes of Leanor behold her hus- 
band among the doomed heretics, and — O, grief! 
grief unutterable agonizes the soul of Herezuelo at the 
sight of Leanor in the penitent's gown. Separated 
in death ! A broken faith ! The free will offering 
of his life for truth's sake had robbed death of its 
sting, but in her recantation he met his most bitter 
sorrow, to cloud the last act of triumph. A Roman 
Catholic who stood near him records i i there was a 



LEANOR DE CINEROS. 157 

sadness in his countenance beyond anything I had 
ever seen." To Leanor the hour was terrible: and 
as the eyes of Herezuelo met hers as he passed to the 
stake, true to his faith, heroic, courageous, the look 
rent her heart. That look of sovereign love and 
sovereign pain, as the look of the Saviour upon Peter, 
touched the heart, and, recognizing her sin and shame, 
she fell to the earth. 

The penitents were returned to their cells after the 
tragedy of execution. A new, more terrible anguish 
has filled the soul of the poor Leanor. The strain of 
the scene just witnessed, the thought that now she 
might have been united with Herezuelo and rejoicing 
in the truth, the deep remorse at her own sin, bowed 
her in the depths of pain ; and throwing herself in 
abasement before God, she cried aloud against her 
sin — and the faith which her lips had denied, but 
which had lived in her heart, became dearer now to 
her than that life which had now been purchased too 
dearly to retain its sweetness. Poor sufferer ! the 
very weakness which had before caused her to yield, 
her sensitiveness to pain, was tried in severer measure 
— in the pangs of heart and conscience. 

She re-asserted her first belief to her keepers, and 
to the priests she confessed her strong faith in the 
truth for which her husband had died. In vain her 
tormentors tried to regain her, and to confirm again 
the recantation. No ; they had before deceived her 



158 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

by saying that Herezuelo too had recanted, and she- 
trusted them no longer. Remembering her former 
sensitiveness, the physical tortures were renewed ; but 
neither the horrors of the Inquisition nor the passion- 
ate appeals and threats of the priests could move her 
during the nine years of imprisonment that followed. 
Nine years of sorrow, which might have been nine 
years of Paradise ! Sorrow was the daily companion 
of her young life, but while the heart was sick and 
the body infirm, the spirit was quiet and firm, look- 
ing at death with no shudder, but with a yearning for 
rest. Ilescas, the Catholic, says, " Nothing could move 
the impenetrable heart of that obstinate woman." 
Knowing her native sensitiveness, her inner struggles, 
we can admire the strength by which she rose above 
them, conquered even nature itself; and this subse- 
quent suffering fully atones for the moment of weak- 
ness. Our pity and our sympathy is with her, and it 
is with a loving pity that we say, " poor Leanor. " 

Nine years later she went to the stake alone. It 
was harder, sadder; yet as those years had brought a 
perfect sorrow, so they had purified, strengthened, 
and brought her off as conqueror — now more truly a 
child of faith. Tender, sensitive, heroic, faithful 
Leanor, thy young life passed early from sunshine 
into darkest night; but there has fallen upon thy 
head once bowed in grief the crown of gold reserved 
for him that overcometh. "God did anoint thee 



LEANOR DE CINEROS. 



159 



with his odorous oil, to wrestle, not to reign;" so 
others shall take patience, strength and courage from 
thy hand, to stand erect in the storms of life, and, 
conquering the weakness of the heart, receive "Well 

done" at last. 









XXIII. 

MARIA DE BOHORQUES. 

As Leanor de Cineros was a type of tender, sensi- 
tive womanhood, shrinking and faltering beneath 
coercion and torture, so Maria de Bohorques stands 
as the type of those who know no fear, who dare 
walk amid fierce beasts or the devouring flames, 
brave, erect, fearless. To them the inner, secret life 
of the soul, eternal, undying, is the real life, to which 
no harm can come when true to its silent voice of 
duty — with which all is well, when resting in the 
peace of God. Come what come may to the outer 
life, the spirit is untouched, serene; and calm endur- 
ance is its natural expression. 

How quickly the dream of life was broken in that 
age of universal death! Men and women in the 
prime of life, youths and maidens in its promise, 
yielded the sacrifice freely, gave up this life deliber- 
ately and calmly. Maria de Bohorques, at the age 
of twenty, turned from the home of wealth and beauty 
to the narrow cell whose only exit was death. Would 
it not require strong conviction, love, heroism to 
accept a religion offering but the hard sentence of the 
leaden casket, threatening rather than promising 
(160) 



MARIA DE BOHORQUES. 161 

aught, <f Who chooseth me must give and hazard all 
he hath." This was the religion heralded by the 
Master, "I came not to send peace, but a sword;" 
and again, "Ye shall be hated of all men for my 
sake, but he that endure th to the end shall be saved." 
Yet this religion touched the hearts of the people, 
lived there, and some would dare to die for it. In 
the latter days, when faith has become a thing of so 
small a price, that wordly advantage, pleasures of 
sense, or even the slight reputation for wisdom among 
the shallow mockers of life, can purchase it, it would 
be well for those who know so little of the personal 
value of religion as to deny its truth, to look at the 
price by which this free faith was purchased in the 
ages past, and know that if its own intrinsic power 
to them is nothing, yet, purchased at such rates, it 
has an acquired value which should put to shame 
every scoff and sneer. As in the little poem of 
Tennyson the humble seed was scattered and grew in 
power until the people cried, "Splendid is the 
flower," but spreading more and coming within the 
reach of all, easy to be plucked by every common 
hand, it then became a weed, so this Christian re- 
ligion, honored and revered when viewed in the 
glory of historical light, has now become so free of 
access to every seeking soul, that to some it has lost 
its power, becoming even as a weed. These foolish 
ones will not choose "what many men desire," be- 



162 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

cause they will not jump with common spirits and 
rank them with the barbarous multitude : and so the 
hidden treasure is disdained. Living amid the free- 
dom and advancement purchased by a holocaust of 
offerings, hecatombs of crushed and mangled bodies, 
it is the mark of the ignorant to lightly estimate the 
secret power of faith that wrought the wondrous work. 
If such heroic faith existed in an age not knowing 
the indebtedness which rests upon us, in an age de- 
manding a sacrifice, not offering beauty and blessing, 
have not we reason to uphold our faith ? That which 
our forefathers died to gain, becomes a sacred legacy 
for us to preserve. 

Maria became familiar with the Scriptures in Latin 
and Greek, for the vernacular was forbidden, and her 
quick, well-trained mind readily discerned the truth 
and its relation to the errors of the day. She had 
been educated with great care as the pupil of ./Egidius 
— that scholar who had been brought to the truth in 
a strange way; for as he stood up as a priest to 
preach the doctrines ^and learning of Romanism, he 
found himself face to face with toiling, suffering men 
and women, who wanted and needed comfort and 
strength. He felt then that his well-prepared syllo- 
gisms and citations from the schoolmen echoed back 
to him from the hollow dome of the Cathedral, with- 
out having entered one heart, and his own sympathiz- 
ing heart knew the utter poverty of such words, and 



MARIA DE BOIIORQUES. 163 

the mockery of such a service. What could he do in 
this great trust ? In the Book he found the words 
of healing, and them he uttered. From his deep 
heart Maria learned the power of those words in 
the Book, over which she had pondered, and which 
awoke question after question in her thoughtful mind. 
She had that rare thing in the world — an independent 
mind, and she worked out these problems of thought 
until master of them. True to herself, she united 
openly with the people holding the same belief, 
although a despised and outcast Lutheran band. She 
joined the secret number who met to read and study 
the Book, and this was a delight to her. Hers was 
an earnest, whole-hearted nature, which could do 
nothing lightly nor half-hearted, but which threw the 
whole soul and life into the work to which duty and 
conviction pointed. Naturally, therefore, she enthus- 
iastically and earnestly devoted her talents to this 
work of the Reformation which now engrossed her 
thoughts. In her little circle, she became a helper, 
reading the Book to them, explaining, arguing, de- 
fending the principles of Luther. 

Her arrest followed. The priests, moved by the 
beauty, bright youth, intellect and talents of the 
young woman, aroused all their energies to save her 
to the Roman church. They determined not to lose 
this power of Catholicism, and used every means to 
induce her to recant. This- promised to be a futile 



164 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

attempt. Never for a moment was she overcome by 
the terrors of her position; but, on the contrary, 
tried to make it bring some good to the cause of her 
heart. She calmly argued, even in the midst of the 
tyrants, claiming her right to a free conscience, and 
urging the reasonableness of the claim. " Instead of 
punishing me for holding these doctrines, it would be 
better for you to follow my example by embracing 
them," was her ready response to priest and in- 
quisitor. 

Nor could she be moved. Limb wrenched from 
socket, utter darkness, mysteries, rack, threats, all 
were alike powerless, for still she declared a joy in 
faith. When torn and bleeding she lay on the pallet 
in her cell, in this hour of weakness, two Dominicans 
again sought her and applied themselves for her con- 
version. With clear mind and perfect calm she re- 
sponded to their affected earnestness, saying that 
their solicitude about her salvation, which she be- 
lieved sincere, could not exceed that which she herself 
felt, as being the party most interested. 

The stake was the response, and even here she 
filled her tormentors with anger. Her ready argu- 
ment was not checked. To her companions, who 
questioned the necessity for such a sacrifice, she said, 
"This is not a time for reasoning, but to contem- 
plate the death of that Redeemer for whom we are 
about to suffer." With joyful, happy face, singing a 



MARIA DE BOHORQUES. 165 

song to cheer these fearful ones, she faced the scaf- 
fold. The gag could stop her cheering voice, but 
not the language of her marvelous eyes, which still 
spoke help. The gag was removed to permit her to 
* speak and renounce the new faith, finding a rescue in 
the return to Rome. The last clear words came un- 
falteringly, "I neither can nor will renounce." 

The final moment brought another chance for es- 
cape, another opportunity to reveal the noble soul. 
The monks surrounded her at the stake, loth to put 
out this bright young life, and urging her youth, 
beauty, talents, argued her duty to live for labor, and 
delayed the fire to hear the word which would speak 
life and liberty to her. Eagerly they call upon her 
now to repeat the creed. The same firm, sweet voice 
repeats it without a tremor, and with the same cour- 
age and earnestness she begins to explain and defend ; 
but the lighted pile stilled the brave voice, and soon 
the courageous heart was at peace. 

Thus this sweet, gifted young life went out — but 
the type of multitudes. It disappeared then in dark- 
ness, but now the same sweet, brave voice tunes the 
heart fainting among trials. When tossed by storm 
and tempest, amid the whirl and maddening maze of 
sin and sorrow, and overwhelmed in the flood of 
disaster and grief, then the clear, gentle voice speaks 
of that faith that is true, that is worth far more than 
life and its ventures, and the trial of which, even as 



166 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

by fire, whether by one great struggle, or the daily 
task and ever-present temptation, is still more precious 
than gold if it be turned to strengthen, to refine and 
ennoble character. May its echo reach us, and bid 
us hold to the rudder though the shadows grow dark, 
for the day will arise with no cloud in its beauty, and 
no trouble in its deep peace. 



XXIV. 

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 

In the Reformation annals, one little scene opens 
before us in all the bright cheerfulness of sunshine, 
and we catch its sunny warmth and beauty; but as 
the little drama proceeds and the clouds gather, and 
the darkness palls, we feel our spirits sink, and as the 
light dies out into night and blackness, our hearts are 
sad and mournful. 

A bright, happy home, beautiful with the light of 
love, offers its brightness and happiness freely as a 
home for every persecuted Christian. Within is a 
ready, loving cheer and sympathy for all. It is the 
home of Antoinette Haveloos, of the good old family 
of the Van Roesmals, known through generations as 
noble, generous, true-hearted, yet never, in all the 
past showing hospitality and help so much needed as 
in this Reformation time. The weary wanderer rests 
his tired body within this home of comfort, the bur- 
dened spirit finds a healing sympathy in tender hearts, 
and here many golden hours gladden darkened lives. 
Antoinette and her beautiful daughter Gudule, both 
lovers of each other, rejoiced to be able to do this 
work, to help the great cause even in this little way, 
(167) 



168 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

content to fill a little place, so that some good emanate 
and touch a greater life. This is a beautiful side to 
the Reformation, so dark and dreadful in so many 
ways, this glimpse at the home-circles, the friend- 
ships, sympathy and love of believers. In the home 
of Antoinette there was this constant meeting and 
communion of fellow-workers and learners of the 
truth. Here Alasco, the Polish baron whose soul had 
been touched by the fire from the lips of Zwinglius, 
found a home and help, and here the centre of the 
Reformation in Louvan, all gathered, neighbors, 
friends, refugees, to hear the Word of God, to speak 
of heavenly things, all as one household — made one 
in Christ. Then on the sunshiny days, they would 
wander about in happy companies, walking upon the 
vine-clad hills, resting on the rich green grass, still 
talking of the same theme, overflowing from the 
abundance of the heart. We are friends to these 
gentle ones, and in these scenes almost seem to be 
present with them, longing, too, to talk of the great 
change in the life when made new in Christ, of its 
higher outlook, its greater hope and significance as 
revealed by the Gospel; longing, too, to exchange 
hopes that all those about us who groan under the 
yoke, may feel that rest in Christ — enjoy this wonder- 
ful blessed life. We seem to join the charmed circle, 
as eager, earnest, happy as. they. 

The sunshine fades; the glowing light dies, and 



MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. 1G0 

beauty and happiness are fled. Reformation means 
change, and change always disturbs, brings pain to 
the nation, as to the individual — it is a universal law. 
In Louvan, epidemic added to the confusion of the 
time, and amid it all, the old homestead of the Von 
Roesmals is destroyed. In a tower overlooking the 
town, Antoinette and Gudule found a retreat; and 
Antoinette, she whose heart had beat so warmly for 
all the poor, the happy dispenser of bounty in the 
house of abundance, now at sixty years of age is 
bereft of all, "a poor old woman/' and, " laden 
with poverty and sufferings." Mother and daughter 
still had each other, and sorrow had but drawn them 
closer together, and even now they were happy in 
that treasure which no power could remove. Some 
light still lingers, although the sun has set. 

Sadder days come, when the lingering light lessens. 
The dark prison opens for Antoinette, and the deso- 
lated home is left to Gudule. Although the chief 
citizens feel the shame that a Von Roesmal, de- 
scendant of the founders of the place, should be so 
cruelly treated, and beg her release, there is no rescue, 
and the day of her death is at hand. That life, so 
filled with gentle deeds of mercy, must go down in 
sorrow to death. Gudule is heart-broken ; she dreads 
yet longs to see her mother, that loved one who was 
all in all to her, mother, sister, friend, guide. Love 
leads her to seek one more glance at that mother — 



170 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

even at her death. Yet what a horrible fate — to be 
buried alive! As the mother drew near the fatal 
spot, it seemed too horrible, too dreadful to be borne. 
Some urged the daughter to leave, but her reply was 
firm, "I must be a spectator of the sacrifice of my 
mother." She hid behind the tree to spare the 
mother's anguish, and silent, motionless, white, and 
cold, saw her approach the grave. Not a sound es- 
capes the daughter's lips. She watches every move- 
ment, tearless, motionless, aghast. But as she saw 
her mother — her dear, good mother — go down into 
the grave, and heard the shovelfuls of earth fall on 
that darling head, shriek after shriek rent the air, as 
her heart was torn with unspeakable anguish. "O 
God," says an eye-witness, " with what lamentations, 
with what woe she filled the air ! " In wild despair, 
bereft of reason, she ran about the streets plucking 
the hair from her head, tearing her face, knowing not 
what to do in the terrible agony of her soul. What 
agony in that hour ! 

O Gudule, O Antoinette, where is now some word 
of that sympathy so freely offered to others ? Where 
now the peaceful fireside, the sweet communion of 
the saints, the love, the cheer, the sympathy, the 
Reformation resting-place? The light has gone out; 
dark night has come, blackness has settled over all. 
So too, over our spirits a sadness has fallen, for the 
sorrowful night to Antoinette and Gudule. Yet 



MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 



171 



sorrow endureth for a night, but joy cometh with the 
morning, and the brightness of the eternal morning 
dissipates clouds and darkness forever. Our sympa- 
thizing hearts fail to fathom the agony of the martyr, 
yet our spirits can rise to the contemplation of his rest 
and joy forever and forever. 




XXV. 

CHARLOTTE DE BOURBON. 

The life of Charlotte de Bourbon is one of those 
romances in real life, which give to history all the 
subtle charm of fiction, and at the same time, speak 
in lessons deep and serious, from the true world about 
us. History has a fascination which radiates from 
character and event, teaching the individual and the 
nation. Reformation time has a peculiar attraction ; 
it is so fraught with stirring incident, so many great 
souls claim our admiration ; but beyond that there is 
such a general heroism among the mass of the people 
to whom we feel ourselves akin, that our hearts warm 
in love and sympathy for them — for suffering hu- 
manity. In tales of chivalry, of conquest, of prog- 
ress, our spirits kindle with sentiment, ambition, en- 
thusiasm ; but the story of these times touches the 
innermost sanctities of the heart — a precious epoch 
to all ages, touching the faith, rights, independence 
of the great human family. In other eras we think 
of the leader — it is Alexander, and not his faithful 
soldiers ; Napoleon, and not the suffering millions ; 
the Crusades with Saladin and Richard, and not the 
foot-sore pilgrims. But in the Reformation it is the 
(172) 



CHARLOTTE DE BOURBON. 173 

people — the poor, the lowly, the high, the noble, all 
are one, and we are one with them in this struggle 
for truth. Here each individual is a hero, and every 
life an individual one, a contest. Luther, Zwingli, 
Calvin, Melanchthon, rise as leaders. Still, love them 
as we may, our hearts are with the struggling millions 
thus sternly called upon to openly choose and avow 
the conviction of the heart, to decide for or against 
conscience. It is the rise of the individual out of the 
mass, the recognition of individual, personal respon- 
sibility, that marks this epoch as great, and endears it 
to the heart of the people. This great truth met its 
recognition in the Reformation, and so, for the first 
time, we note individual character, which, however 
obscure, if true, is noble. No longer as dumb, 
driven cattle was life beyond the power of the will, 
but each individual was constrained to meet the 
question of choice, and by it to reveal the inner 
principle and the true character, revealed in the myr- 
iads who bravely walked to death, and equally so in 
the countless multitudes who mocked the truth or 
stifled conscience, and chose the life of safety and 
comfort. In each case there was a choice. Whether 
we boldly take a stand, or silently refuse to act, we 
make a choice. 

Charlotte de Bourbon chose what her soul revealed 
to her as truth. She was brought face to face with 
the stern call, " Choose." As a child the two faiths 



174 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

ever confronted her with the demand. Her father, 
the stern, haughty, bigoted Duke de Montpensier, 
the most ardent Romanist of the princes of France, 
held before her the crucifix, the pope, the mass, the 
saints; while her gentle mother tenderly taught the 
deep and loving truth of the Book of Life to her. 
The father had the power, the authority over her 
young life ; but the mother had that silent, secret force 
of influence upon her heart. The power of the father 
peremptorily sent her to the nunnery, but the in- 
fluence of the mother's instructions molded her 
character and carved life for her. With grief, the 
mother and daughter heard the cruel decree that 
spoke a last parting, a parting that entered into the 
soul of Charlotte, and bore everlasting influence. A 
secret protestation against the act of entering the 
convent was signed by the young girl, yet, forced to 
take the vows, she became a sable-robed sister in the 
convent of Jouarre. To many of the girls of France, 
this life had a charm — the silent seclusion, the soli- 
tude, meditation and repose had its allurements; and 
many parents were glad to find this asylum for their 
daughters and thus shake off all farther responsibility. 
But no such false idea could reconcile Charlotte or 
her mother, who looked upon life and its duties as 
the field for action. Moreover, this life, so far sepa- 
rated from the active labor which seemed to call her, 
* was a daily service in a faith which her conscience 



CHARLOTTE DE BOURBON. 175 

had rejected ! The act of protestation could never 
reveal the full protestation of her soul. 

Thus the years of young womanhood were passed 
within the cloister walls, during which time the death 
of the beloved mother gave a new pain to her heavy 
heart and recalled the loving words of counsel. She 
felt the cruel wrong in her own life, and the suffering 
of the Huguenots about her gave an intensity to her 
hatred of popery, and yet — she was the abbess of 
Jouarre ! Her rank as the daughter of a prince of 
the blood royal of France had raised her to that 
position, yet there was no pleasure, no satisfaction in 
the dignity or honor — it was in the service of the 
Church of Rome ! Whatever influence there was in 
that rank, she used for the cause that filled her heart. 
Here among the nuns she walked and freely spoke 
the conviction of her soul. She gathered the sisters 
about her and earnestly instructed them in the truth, 
teaching the doctrines of the Reformed faith to those 
daily performing popish ceremonials. What a 
mockery of life ! Yea more, she felt its hypocrisy. 
Yet what could she do? Her father's house was 
closed to her, and outside of it was the cruel world ! 

At first the heretical teaching was passed by, but 
even royal blood was no proof against the relentless 
suspicions of Rome, and soon the whisper spread that 
she was instilling poison into the minds of the sisters, 
and threats warned her to shake off the bonds. How? 



176 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

Amid the Huguenot confusion of the time the con- 
vent was invaded, and the abbess of Jouarre made her 
escape. After wandering about among relatives and 
friends, she found a home in Heidelberg, at the castle 
of the Elector Frederick, where she freely cast off the 
old chains and boldly united with the Reformers. It 
was an hour of suffering, for her enraged father 
reproached her bitterly, utterly refusing to be recon- 
ciled, to acknowledge or support her, or to send a 
single word of affection. She felt the injustice of the 
reproach, for she maintained that the father has no 
absolute authority over the conscience of the child. 
This question needs no argument in this advanced 
age, where the rights of the individual are sacred ; but 
the sixteenth century was too near the days of feudal- 
ism, and the time when the relation of parent and 
child was that of lord and dependent, and the law of 
duty to bond was higher than duty to soul. In this 
sore trial, active work in the cause now spreading, 
suffering, and needing the helping hand, was a wel- 
come labor to her. __ 

A greater place was to know the power of her help- 
ful hand and heart. William, Prince of Orange, the 
leader of the Reformation in the Netherlands, had 
heard the story of Charlotte de Bourbon, and her 
warm attachment to truth; her sufferings, all revealing 
the brave soul and noble character, had won his ad- 
miration; and when, upon a visit to Frederick, he 



CHARLOTTE DE BOURBON. 177 

met there the graceful, intelligent princess, whose 
beauty had that rare touch which suffering for a noble 
cause alone imparts, his admiration increased to love. 
To her William wrote a simple letter, saying that he 
was already past his prime, his fortune encumbered 
for his children and with debts contracted for his 
country. Charlotte recognized the noble nature 
speaking in such words and deeds — her own life had 
felt the touch of sacrifice for truth. A convention of 
the doctors and bishops of France, summoned by her 
father, confirmed the opinion that the conventual 
vows had been conformable neither to the laws of 
France nor to the canons of the Council of Trent ; 
and the abbess of Jouarre, the daughter of the fierce 
Roman Catholic Duke, became the wife of the cham- 
pion of truth in that country so persecuted by cruel, 
bigoted Spain. Like Katherine von Bora, from the 
nun to the helpmeet of the leader, from the convent 
to the hearth-stone of the Reformer ! 

It was evident that in this marriage, William sought 
his own inclination, rather than any state reasons or 
policy. The union met a general disapproval ; even 
the Elector Frederick, friend as he was to both, con- 
demned it ; the Elector of Saxony was delirious with 
rage, while his brother, Count John, called it an "act 
of madness." This same brother afterward wrote, 
" of a surety it is a most precious consolation and a 
wondrous relief, that God should have given him a 
12 



178 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

wife so distinguished by her virtues, her piety, hei 
vast intelligence — in a word, so perfectly all that he 
could wish." William knew that state policy could 
never plan the help that a perfect home life of love 
would give. He knew from bitter experience the fal- 
lacy of that power, and now obeyed his own will and 
heart. Nor was he deceived or disappointed. No 
longer did he struggle daily against the abuse and re- 
proach which the mad Anne of Saxony had hurled 
upon him, scorning him as an exile and a wanderer, 
and bewailing the sacrifice of wealth and position, 
and ridiculing him in his efforts to raise money to 
help his distressed country. Poor Anne ! she died in 
the mad-house, driven thither by her fierce, stormy 
nature. Charlotte de Bourbon honored the spirit 
that would prompt such actions — she was herself a 
wanderer — and equaled him in that open, generous, 
earnest enthusiasm, making that life a harmony, a 
mutual help, and though full of danger, full 01 
beauty. The people in the Netherlands reverenced 
William as their hero and defender; and while they 
looked with awe at the princess so high above them, 
they loved her for the gracious help given them. In 
these years of tempest, when the Prince braved the 
storms in the world, there was rest and peace in her 
sympathy and encouragement. We read: " His 
Highness is in excellent health, and, in spite of ad- 
versity, incredible labor, perplexity and danger, that 



CHARLOTTE DE BOURBON. 179 

it makes me happy to witness it. No doubt a chief 
reason is the consolation he derives from the pious 
and highly intelligent wife whom the Lord has given 
him, and who is inexpressibly dear to him." 

How severe and trying must have been her con- 
stant anxiety, knowing that the life of the Prince was 
daily in danger of the assassin ! And when such an 
attempt upon his life almost met success, what a 
picture we have of the true woman ! The Prince is 
shot through the head by a Papist, who claimed that 
he did it for the sake of the Church and the glory of 
God ; his life is despaired of, and for eighteen days 
we find the faithful helpmeet at his bedside, never 
leaving it, with tenderness and prayer calling back 
that life so necessary to the country and the cause. 
As she hears his " Good night forever — it is all over 
now," her heart, although breaking, clings to hope, 
as she encourages, gently ministers, and will not give 
him up. Her work is blessed, and a joyful nation 
gathers in cathedral and church to pour forth thanks- 
giving for the restoration of that precious life. His 
wife has proved her love for it in a stronger way than 
in thanksgiving. She returns from the church and 
the thanksgiving, and exhausted, worn out, lies on the 
bed of death, and three days later yields up the life 
which she would gladly give to save the Prince to his 
people. The anxiety, watching, alternations of hope 
and fear, had taken the precious life-bl*^ 



180 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

says: "The Prince was saved, but unhappily, the 
murderer had yet found an illustrious victim — the de- 
voted wife who had so faithfully shared his joys and 
sorrows." May we not say that this was another life 
cast as a sacrifice at the stern demand of the time ? 

From one of the daughters of Charlotte de Bourbon 
came Frederick V. of Bohemia, who married Eliza- 
beth Stuart, daughter of James of England, from 
whom Queen Victoria is descended. Thus, in the 
veins of our present Queen of England flows the 
blood of the faithful Charlotte de Bourbon. 




XXVI. 

IN THE NETHERLANDS. 

How the Reformation seized upon the hearts of the 
people, and how individuals grasped the vital truth 
in its inner motive power ! Individuals thought for 
themselves, each answering to his own conscience the 
question of faith, not blindly following the teaching 
of the fathers nor the coercion of numbers. Here 
was no ignorant acceptance of an established creed, 
but every man could give a reason for the faith that 
was in him. Of the many glad truths that the new- 
found Bible revealed, the great truth that touched the 
soul of the people was the doctrine of Justification by 
Faith. The endless rushing after works and the 
daily purchasing of salvation did not satisfy the heart ; 
it nourished evil in the life, and made the unsatisfied 
spirit feverish in the vain pursuit of its own salvation. 
But rest in Christ, dependence on his salvation — this 
was peace to the soul, and the yearning, needy heart 
responded to this gospel. High and low, rich and 
poor, learned and ignorant, all grasped this soul- 
satisfying truth, and clung to it with a deathless 
energy. In the court, duchess and princess argue the 
Scripture truth ; in the home the mother imparts it to 
(181) 



182 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

the children as a precious legacy, and in the work- 
shop and kitchen the maiden is ready with the Bible 
answers, and all alike are willing to die for it. Surely 
there is something divine in a power which so touches 
the deep heart of humanity ! 

The Netherlands caught the echo of Luther's ring- 
ing words, and a vibrating thrill stirred the country. 
The many strangers, students, exiles, merchants, pass- 
ing through this land having commerce with all nations, 
brought a clearer voice in his writings. Van Goch, 
Thomas a Kempis, Erasmus, had already prepared 
the way for the full reception of truth, enlarged civil 
liberty brought its reforming tendency, and so the 
Reformed doctrines found an unhesitating welcome in 
the Netherlands. Among the lowly it was received 
with joy, and again the poor have the Gospel preached 
to them in the renewal of the apostolic days. God 
designed it as a free gift, but the wickedness of man 
now placed upon it a heavy price — often life itself — 
yet it found many eager seekers. The Netherlands 
belonged to Spain, and in this fact we read the pen- 
alty affixed to the seeker of the free gift of the Gos- 
pel. Placards were issued against Luther's writings 
by Charles V. , and this was the first and greatest note 
of the tyrant's dread voice. Some abjured their 
faith, and it was a long procession that wound 
through the streets to cast the wicked books into the 
flames ; it was a large crowd that fled across the seas ; 



IN THE NETHERLANDS. 183 

and yet it is recorded that fifty thousand perished at 
the hand of the destroyer. How general, then, must 
have been this love of the Scriptures*, and the accept- 
ance of their truth ! How impious, how wicked to 
oppose this sentiment of the mass ! The opposition 
to all that lies deepest in the heart of man, to which 
the people cling, cannot but produce confusion, dis- 
tress, the disruption of society. What temporal rule 
could stand in opposition to this divine working? 

The same cruelty which Spain used in her own 
land extended to her province. The Northern 
people, however, were of a bolder, more aggressive, 
independent nature, than the subjects in the Southern 
kingdom. So here there is open resistance to the 
cruel measures of Spain. It needed a hand as cruel 
as herself to carry out the Spanish policy, and the 
Duke of Alva was a fair exponent of her spirit " under 
him "every hour produced fresh objects of pity and 
mourning, and the noise of the bloody passing bell 
was continually heard, which, by the martyrdom of 
this man's cousin, and the other man's friend or 
brother, rung dismal peals on the hearts of the survi- 
vor." Still, the scenes of Roman Catholic Rome 
could not be repeated in the land of William the 
Silent. In Spain, the majority of the people worked 
together with the king in devotion to Rome, and 
hatred to the Reformation. In the Netherlands this 
devoted Catholic people did not exist ; civil liberty 



184 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

had begotten the broader spirit of the Reformed prin- 
ciples, and nobles and electors shared the opinions 
of the people, working with thern ; and, although the 
mandates of the king, executed by his agents, could 
destroy, yet both policy and executors were de- 
nounced and abhorred. Here there were no flocks 
of zealots in holiday clothes, glorying in the cruelty, 
mocking at heretics, urging on the executioners, and 
revealing all the meanness and wicked passion of their 
narrow souls : on the contrary, there is a sympathizing 
multitude, following the martyr to the last hour, en- 
couraging, sweetening the bitter moment, and then 
fierce and strong in denunciation of such unholy 
powers. Finally they break into open revolt, and as 
it becomes unsafe to work as in Spain, private execu- 
tion robs the victim of this sympathy, until even the 
secret wickedness falls before a dread confederacy of 
opposition, of those who dare defy the kingdom of 
haughty Spain. 

While the terror . of the time invaded castle and 
palace, still the great sorrow and trial was among the 
mass. It is a touching and an inspiring thing to see 
the brave hearts among the lowly women, and to 
know that it was conviction that made all tribulation 
a glory to those who, although unlearned and humble, 
held fast to the truth which satisfied their hearts, 
knowing the truth in its purity, and accordingly 
greater than the throned monarch. We find Wendel- 



IN THE NETHERLANDS. 185 

mutha, a woman of little learning, but of force of 
character, standing firmly before priest and ruler, 
giving ready, wise, judicious answers, although it is 
a step on the road to a dreadful death. What a clear 
knowledge of the truth is seen in this humble woman, 
as clear, nay clearer than that of doctor and scholar, 
revealing that, of a truth, the gospel is for the whole 
world, for every creature. 

The priest, proud in his authority, asks : " What 
do you think as to saints, their pictures and images ? " 
And the true response shows the secret folly of the 
whole idea: "I know no other mediator than Jesus 
Christ." 

"Will you have a confessor or not?" asks the 
priest, and again she strikes at the root of this fallacy : 
" I have confessed all my sins to Christ, my Lord, who 
taketh away all sins." 

" Who has taught you this opinion — how came you 
by it?" interrogates the father. "The Lord calls 
all men to him. I am his sheep, therefore, I hear his 
voice," is the response. 

"Are you alone then called?" is the sneering in- 
quiry, and calmly, sweetly, truthfully she replies, 
" O no, the Lord calls to him all that are heavy 
laden." 

Here was the secret that won the heart of the peo- 
ple — a rest for the heavy laden, a rest not found by 
the works of the hands nor the deeds of the law, but 



186 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

alone in Christ. Such a heart- friend Christ became 
to sin-sick, burdened souls, that nothing could sepa- 
rate the clinging love of the sufferer and the firm, 
faithful support of his divine Friend. "I cleave to 
thee," the words of Wendelmutha, was the sentiment 
of the universal heart. Amid the flames is heard 
that cry, "I cleave to thee," and the sympathizing 
hearts respond with the same faithful determination. 
"Verily," says Erasmus, "the world is turned upside 
down ; monks are ignorant, and women are edu- 
cated " — meaning educated in the Scriptures. 

Says Motley: ".At this point the history of the 
Netherlands presents to us a noble spectacle : we see 
on the one hand the little ones, those unknown to 
the world, serving God with fervor and indomitable 
resolution, and, on the other hand, persecutors thirst- 
ing for their blood, and conflicts, martyrdom await- 
ing them. The heroism of the lowly appears infinitely 
small in the eyes of the world, but in our eyes it is 
one of the glories of the Reformation that in its 
history the little ones are especially brought before 
us." Lysken Dirke was one of the "little ones," 
with the same faith with its reasons ready to answer 
the questions, and the same doctrine of salvation 
through the righteousness of Christ alone, had taken 
full possession of her heart. She and her husband 
were seized and cast into separate prisons, never to 
see each other again, yet having the one comfort of 



IN THE NETHERLANDS. 187 

writing encouraging letters. She felt, as many must 
have felt in that time, that she had the will to stand, 
and the love and desire to be loyal to faith, and yet 
had natural misgivings and fears lest in the dread 
hour she might falter. Her husband writes, " Fear 
not the world, for the hairs of your head are num- 
bered," and at the unceasing torments of the friars 
writes, " I beseech you once more that you give no 
heed to them, and have nothing to do with them." 

The monks soon found it to be to their advantage to 
cease questioning her, for she probed them to the 
quick, touching their errors, sins and shame, reveal- 
ing the truth of the Scripture concerning them. 
Said the priest, " Do you know what qualifications 
should belong to a teacher ? ' ' The Scripture answer 
meets them, "A teacher should be the husband of 
one wife, blameless, having obedient children, not 
given to wine, not incontinent." In self-condemna- 
tion and exculpation he replied, " If we do wrong, 
the consequences will fall upon our own heads; 
but the Lord is merciful." But the true honest 
answer tears away this flimsy defence : " Would you 
sin because of the mercy of the Lord? is it not 
written that we should not add to sin, nor take en- 
couragement to commit it, because the grace of God 
abounds?" Such words did more to stop the worri- 
ments of the priests than protestations or argument. 

Lysken had that characteristic honest, blunt, out 



188 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

spoken manner of the people — she was one of the 
people. As she passed through the curious crowds 
to trial she said, " Know that I do not suffer for rob- 
bery or murder, nor any kind of wickedness, but 
solely for the incorruptible word of God." The 
people loved her, and standing beneath her cell win- 
dow would sing for her encouragement, while she to 
encourage them and show her firm, undaunted heart 
would respond with a hymn of faith. " Sing out, 
Lysken," cried the crowd, but the magistrates silenced 
the rousing voice. On the day of execution, the 
crowds hurried early to the banks of the Scheldt, but 
the powers had deprived her of the last hour of human 
sympathy, and before the dawn of the day the dark 
waters of the river had rolled silently over her. 

Betken, another of the "little ones," caught the 
gleam of the truth which shines for all creatures. 
She was a maid-servant, yet a child of the kingdom 
of heaven in the days when there was a force upon 
the humbler workers to keep m favor with those in rule 
above them. For her devotion to her heretic master, 
to whose prison she daily brought him dinner, and 
her pious habits, she was brought to that tribulation 
which was but glory to her. When standing before 
the rack, she innocently asks, "Wherefore do you 
torture me?" and again, "Alas, my masters, if it be 
so that I must suffer this pain, then give me leave first 
to call upon God." Then, as the soul accustomed to 



IN THE NETHERLANDS. 189 

communion with God pours forth its own agony and 
its trust in Him, the guilty, conscience-stricken com- 
missioner swoons — the fierce cruelty falls before the 
simple, child-like faith. The torture is spared, but 
she is hurried to death. The crowd, as ever in the 
Netherlands a contrast to that of Spain, follow with 
cheers and sympathy, crying, " Fight manfully, for 
the crown is prepared for you." She bids them be 
faithful, hopefully adding, " as for me, I am going to 
meet my glorious Saviour." One of the little ones 
on earth, but l ' the first shall be last, and the last shall 
be first." 

In each life, however lowly, there are seeds of 
mighty good, and it is a weak soul that must seek a 
sphere to act nobly. In the rank where you stand, 
battle faithfully for truth, and be ready to know the 
opportunity when you are called upon to take an 
active part in the onward progress of truth. No life 
is devoid of the opportunity : character determines 
our use of it — positive in its favor, or negative, a clog 
on the wheels of its progress. 



XXVII. 



KATHERINE WILLOUGHBY. 



In England, even as in Germany, France, Italy, 
Spain, and the Netherlands, the heart of woman was 
true to the voice of conscience and the convictions 
of truth, firm in its support, although at the cost of 
comfort, position, worldly gain, and life itself. Kath- 
erine Willoughby presents to us the English phase, re- 
veals the Reformation as it took shape in the life in 
England. 

As the sole heiress of Lord Willoughby and the 
daughter of Mary of Salines, the devoted friend of 
the queen, Katherine of Aragon, the gay, brilliant 
life of the English court lay open to Katherine Wil- 
loughby. Raised in this court, which was even then 
approaching the magnificence which blazed forth in 
all its glory a few years later in the days of Elizabeth, 
even then touched by the brilliancy of the royal life 
of France under the influence of Louise of Savoy, 
there would naturally be a charm, a dazzling allure- 
ment in its attractions, especially to the young, im- 
aginative, innocent maiden. She was educated in 
the precise, formal, thorough, careful manner of the 
English court. Her education was directed and stu- 
(190) 



KATHERIXE WILLOUGHBY. 191 

diously watched by Mary Tudor, the sister of Henry 
VIII, who imparted to her a courtly refinement, cul- 
ture and grace. She was one of the model English 
maidens, and her girlhood passed in the regular, 
formal mode. Her marriage seemed suitable, and the 
true and proper event seemed given to her, in her 
union with the Duke of Suffolk, the favorite of King 
Henry. All this was the natural and expected devel- 
opment of the life of a maiden in her position, and 
the future, as a matron in court life, seemed secure. 
As her husband and the king were close friends, the 
royal life still remained the place for the duchess to 
display her talents, her delightful conversation and 
scintillating wit. 

The outer life was one of careless pleasure and en- 
joyment, but there was a true life within the home 
where the spirit of the Christian religion lived, and 
the truth as revealed .in the Scriptures ruled the wor- 
ship. Alexander Seaton, a Scottish friar, who had 
fled from his native country on account of religious 
persecution, was chaplain in this home of the duke 
and duchess of Suffolk, and the whole household re- 
joiced in the gospel as taught in its simplicity and 
truth by his pious, loving heart. A broad, strong, 
sure foundation on the true a.^d living faith was thus 
laid by this earnest preacher — a faith which, although 
it brought grace and salvation, was destined to bring 
shadows into this life of golden sunshine, and change 



192 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

the happy home life of its queen into that of the 
wanderer and the fugitive. We see, for a certainty, 
that this religion thus accepted, was not merely as- 
sumed because approved by the King, for when a 
Queen denounced it, and the trial by fire proved it, 
then it still remained firm and unshaken. 

In her zeal for that faith which had touched her 
soul with a new and higher life, Katherine did not 
hesitate to openly denounce the beliefs and practices 
of the Roman Catholic Church. Her character was 
a positive one — very earnest and enthusiastic — and it 
was not enough for her that she upheld and supported 
the Protestant cause, but she was equally desirous of 
tearing down and destroying all the evil that threat- 
ened it. Her contempt for the pretense and hypoc- 
risy of Rome was open and expressed, and she spared 
neither devotee nor bishop. She hated their sins and 
empty worship, and did not fail to utter her hatred. 

Thus she acquired the enmity of that bulwark of 
the Roman church, Bishop Gardiner, who was to 
wield such a drea4 power in the six years of blood 
and terror of the reign of Queen Mary. Personally, 
aside from his religion, Katherine had a dislike for 
him, and was unable to conceal her feeling. His 
close, subtle nature, so opposite to her free, open 
frankness and innocence, raised her antagonism 
by mere contact. History has revealed the fierce, 
cruel, vindictive character of Gardiner, and his nature 



KATHERINE WILLOUGHBY. 193 

so full of malice and revenge that the feeble multi- 
tude cowered in fear before him. He is the voice 
ever at the side of Mary urging her to bloody deeds, 
and his is the wicked hand swift for execution, that 
made her reign a terror. None would easily tempt 
his malice or rouse his deep resentment. One inci- 
dent kindled this anger against Katherine, and to a 
certain degree was the secret source of her subsequent 
trials. 

It happened that at a dinner party given by the 
Duke, it was announced that each lady should take 
the one she loved best to dinner. The duchess chose 
Gardiner, laughingly saying that, as she loved her 
husband best, and dared not go with him, she would 
take the one she loved least. This Gardiner never 
forgot, and fully exacted the penalty. Later, another 
slight added to his resentment and to the purpose and 
measure of revenge cherished in his heart. It was 
yet the day of Protestant favor in England, and Gar- 
diner was confined in the Tower. The duchess passed 
by the tower, and was saluted by him from his cham- 
ber window. Katherine looked up, and as she 
bowed, remarked that it was merry with the lambs 
now that the wolf was shut up. The wolf was not 
caged forever, and the imprisonment and taunts were 
not forgotten. 

The Duke of Suffolk died in a perilous time, when 
all was change, and no peace was enduring, and no 
13 



194 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

home was protected. Katherine was soon to feel that 
the world is not kind to a woman who must meet it 
face to face. The duchess was suspected of holding 
Reformed sentiments — for court religion was fickle — 
and vain attempts were made to extract the truth 
from her friend, Anne Askew. A decree was issued 
against retaining any New Testament, or any books 
of Tyndale, Wickliffe, or Coverdale. Katherine 
Willoughby came under this decree, and would have 
suffered, but the friendship of Katherine Parr pro- 
tected her in this. 

In the short reign of Edward VI., when Protestant 
favor smiled, Katherine was active in measures to aid 
the establishment of the Reformation. From her 
activity and enthusiasm in this brief time, when she 
dared work freely as her heart dictated, we may con- 
jecture what a strong friend and helper she would 
have been had not persecution robbed her of the 
privilege and driven her into exile. In those six 
months of the young prince she lent her aid in meas- 
ures to abolish holy-days, remove images and marks 
of idolatry, reform the clergy, provide the churches 
with the English Bible, and stir up the Bishops to 
teach the Scriptures. All this work won a warm and 
eager enthusiasm, and the hope which was now kin- 
dled in so many loyal hearts rose high in. her soul. 
Latimer at this time preached for the king in the 
palace, and the court chapel could not contain the 



KATHERINE WILLOUGHBY. 195 

crowds which filled the place where the true Word 
was preached and taught. The duchess was his 
friend, and in her palace the same voice, afterward 
hushed in flames, told the truth to eager souls. 

Again the court life changed. The few days of 
young Edward had passed, and as Roman Catholic 
Mary took the throne, the old bitter party came into 
favor, smarting under the disgraces heaped on the 
mother church and the exposure of her pretences, 
and longing for revenge upon the heretics. The 
wolf is loose among the lambs, and destruction is 
certain to many. It is the day of the stake, the 
flame, the rack, in "merrie England," where the 
good old Saxon blood, under Spanish influence, de- 
scends to bitter persecution. The Roman church 
was re-established. Royal ordinances forbade the 
Reformed worship. 

Katherine Willoughby had the heroism to be con- 
sistent, and held to the convictions of her heart. 
Gardiner, close to the queen, would scarcely forget 
his ancient grudge, and his hatred would now find a 
way for expression. Her husband, Richard Bertie, 
whom she had lately married, was first made to suffer 
through fine and imprisonment, and it was evident 
that Gardiner but awaited an opportunity to bring 
suffering to the duchess. 

Flight seemed the only possible way to escape his 
cruelty, and Katherine, with her young babe, fled by 



196 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

night, leaving England for the Netherlands. The 
same day of her flight her house was searched, and 
measures taken to apprehend her. Her escape had 
not been a moment too soon. She and her husband 
concluded to settle in Wesel, a town in which there 
were several Protestants whom the duchess had helped 
in England when in similar distress. Stopping in a 
village for a short period to rest, they were suspected, 
and again made secret preparations to continue their 
journey. Afraid to leave openly, they started out 
one afternoon, with one servant, as though for a short 
ramble, and journeyed onward to Wesel. The walk- 
ing was good, as the ground was hard, and the air 
keen and bracing. As night came on, the rain began. 
They arrived in Wesel, but it was a piteous group — 
the child crying with cold and hunger, the mother, 
wet, half-frozen, bedraggled with mud, weeping bit- 
terly. They wandered about in search of food and 
lodging. By chance, they knocked at the door of 
the home of the preacher whom they had helped, for 
whom they were searching, and as he beheld them in 
their misery, he, too, wept with them. What an ex- 
change from the luxury and pleasure of the court ! 
Faith maintained through such adversity, must, in- 
deed, be deep in the soul and precious to the heart. 
Thus doth conscience make heroes of the true in 
spirit. 

Peace did not yet greet them, for persecution fol- 



KATHERINE WILLOUGHBY. 197 

lowed them many years, even into a foreign country. 
Even the death of Gardiner did not remove the re- 
lentless fury of the pursuers, and they were obliged 
to move from place to place, everywhere receiving 
help from those whom they had helped, everywhere 
finding again the bread cast upon the waters. After 
the death of Mary, when the gracious hand of Eliza- 
beth again restored the Bible, and her voice called 
all the wanderers home from perils and suffering to 
peace and comfort, Katherine Willoughby was among 
the grateful exiles who rejoiced in the glad tidings. 
In England again she found a home of happiness 
where her soul could delight itself in the worship as 
taught by the Scriptures. There must have been an 
added joy in this final peace for the voluntary sacri- 
fice which had been given, and that truth for which 
she had suffered must have had a sweeter and more 
precious secret for her soul. 

The English maiden had received the truth in 
gladness in a happy home ; the English matron had 
maintained it through sorrow and grief. The truth 
had found her faithful, and to him that overcometh 
crowns are given. In some form we must all battle 
for truth — for the truth that comes to us through 
divine power — and to hold to that truth amidst all 
the errors of formalism and false doctrine demands a 
heroism of soul in each one of us to-day. 



XXVIII. 

THE MODERN REFORMATION. 

The Nineteenth Century has not been — nor is it 
likely to be — startled by the terror of the voice crying 
in the wilderness, nor has it been awakened from its 
sleep of indifference by the stirring words of a Luther. 
This is not because the millennium has come, or tha.t 
the religious world is in a perfection of vigorous life 
and growth. On the contrary, well might it be if 
such a voice could now be heard, calling from high- 
ways and hedges, and dreary deserts and waste places 
as that of the stern man of the desert, or as the mighty 
voice of Luther resounding through cottage and pal- 
ace, and home and court, and even into the very gates 
of Zion. Is there not now need of a modern refor- 
mation — of a new life in the church — "of an awakening 
from dead forms arid dogmas to the simple true life 
of a Christian as revealed in the basis of Christian life 
—in the Word of God? 

In the days of the Baptist, the church of the true 
religion, as handed down from generation to genera- 
tion, through the chosen people had sunk from its true, 
real life into a mere formalism — an observance of rites 
and ceremonials. It was a grand old religion, held 
( 198) 



THE MODERN REFORMATION. 199 

together by its inherent divine truth, and the power 
of Jehovah through hundreds of centuries; but the 
same holy fire and zeal that glowed in the heart of the 
prophet and patriarch and the priest as he performed 
his sacred vows had died, away, and the breast of the 
Pharisee knew naught of its high holiness — nothing 
but a self-exaltation and pride as he stood at the con- 
secrated altar. The letter of the law had killed its 
spirit, and it was even as sadly pronounced "a, whited 
sepulchre full of dead men's bones." The real re- 
ligion, the deep fervency and love, the humiliation 
and abasement, the reverence and adoration, the re- 
pentance and sorrow, the trust and faith — all these, so 
deep in soul of the old Jewish worshiper — of Isaiah, 
Moses, David — were buried beneath the pretence of 
outward observance. The same forms of worship 
existed — but they, alas, were only forms, and their 
deep significance had departed. It needed the voice 
in the wilderness, the warning, unfaltering, stern, 
terrifying voice of the man of the desert, calling to 
repentance, warning to flee from the terrible wrath to 
come, the judgment of the Lord Jehovah — it needed 
this mighty voice to stir the conscience so deep in 
slumber. The conscience, again roused to the power 
of sin, the depravity and deceitfulness of the human 
heart, shook off the old bonds, eagerly sought the 
way of truth, and in seeking, found Christ. The way 
was prepared for the Redeemer, and Christ in the 



200 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

heart made a new creature. Then the true religious 
life again breathed among men. Then, too, not 
alone to the Jew, to the select, to a chosen few, but 
the Gospel was preached to every creature, and it was 
freely given to all — it was " whosoever will, may 
come. ' ' The old formalism of the Church was over- 
thrown; a new dispensation brought a new religious 
life, a life not of form but of a renewal of the heart 
and spirit — an individual responsibility to God. 
This religion spread and established itself — yet only 
through sacrifice. Then came the days of Nero and 
Antoninus — days of terror to the Christians. The 
amphitheaters witnessed savage scenes, and the cries 
of mangled Christians mingled with the yells of wild 
beasts. History forever holds the memory of that 
dreadful age, and forever tells the truth that the 
change, the resurrection from dead forms to living 
truth, has its heroes and martyrs. 

We see the parallelism in the days of Luther. Fif- 
teen centuries had witnessed the growth of that same 
religion which had been purchased by such a price, 
and again the outer ceremonial had buried the true 
faith — again the deeds of the law justified man, and 
the faith in the unseen had grown dim. Then the 
heroic soul of Luther declared against Babylon and 
its abominations, and the stern words of rebuke, 
alternating with the bitter scorn of sarcasm and right- 
eous indignation as he laid bare the hypocrisy and 



THE MODERN REFORMATION. 201. 

usurpation of the Roman Catholic church, caused it 
to totter and fall. The true faith in Christ was 
brought from the hidden truth, and the real religion 
so long buried under the forms of the Church again 
breathed its new life into every creature. Luther, 
like John the Baptist, was the forerunner revealing 
the deceitfulness of sin, making the crooked straight, 
and pointing to the One that taketh away the sins of 
the world. Christ again redeems his people, again 
brings them from the shadow to reality ; again there 
is individual responsibility, and outer things are seen 
as externals, and the true life is known as the life of 
the soul. When Christ comes then comes the king- 
dom to the soul, and eternal life already begins its 
growth. He that believe th hath everlasting life. In 
this second Reformation, the time of Luther, again 
the poor, every needy creature, may be as kings and 
priests unto God. The truth is again given to the 
masses, and the poor have the Gospel preached to 
them as in the early days of the disciples and apos- 
tles. As the Christian Church arises, new born from 
this great Reformation, there is the same parallel in 
its history; days of persecution follow — there is a 
heavy cross taken up in the name of Christ ever — 
and we read of the stake, fire and water, the inquisi- 
tion — martyrdom. History again records its heroic 
and noble sufferers for truth's sake. 

In the Nineteenth Centurv we do not meet the 



202 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

ritualism of the Hebrew synagogue and the vain 
hypocrisy of the Pharisee in repeated ceremony ; 
neither do we find the all-prevailing power of the 
Roman Catholic church with its corruption, nor the 
arrogant ignorance of the Papist — religion is not now 
buried under symbolical forms as among the Jews, 
nor obscured by the works of the hands as with the 
Romanist ; but another evil threatens true religion in 
this century, needing as of old the awakening voice 
of John and the revelation of Luther, as he points to 
the Word and recalls us to its divine teaching. As 
in the time of John and the age of Luther, so now 
the truth is preached to a limited class, and the great 
multitudes are untouched. Christ preached to the 
poor, and Luther's spirit found its way to the very 
humblest. It is a great question in this day, "how 
can we reach the masses ? " It is this situation which 
has brought forth the many evangelists who aim to 
touch the needs of the multitude. It is evident that 
the churches fail in this great power in Christ's re- 
ligion. The secret of the failure is in the Church, 
and until the spirit of the Reformation has entered 
there will be found no remedy. While there still ex- 
ists spiritual life, we must acknowledge that much of 
the living truth of the Scriptures is buried under the 
theology and institutions of the Church — its doc- 
trines, dogmas, decrees, and systems of work. The 
Scriptures as interpreted by man has the supremacy 



THE MODERN REFORMATION. 203 

over the Word itself, and the carrying out of a sys- 
tem of Christian effort is more valuable than the true 
spirit of the worker. We take up truth as it is 
handed down to us, and we engage in the labor that 
is pointed out to us, and so the Christian life is dic- 
tated, and those take it up who have been so trained 
and live it according to their own peculiar teaching. 
The Reformation of the Nineteenth Century calls for 
no great leaders, but it makes a demand upon the 
individual heart. It asks that each seeker after truth 
look not at the learning of the fathers nor the prac- 
tices of ancestors, but to look within — to search the 
truth in his own soul, and to live as the inner convic- 
tions bid him. The Reformation of the Nineteenth 
Century will chronicle no bloodshed, no martyrdom, 
but there will be that struggle of the soul, silent and 
unrecorded, by which the individual shakes off the 
tyranny of custom and form and grasps the truth as 
the voice of God speaks to mVi, and as he lives free 
of all pretense — wholly in the truth which is ever 
revealed to the soul that will but pause to receive it. 
This is not the day of faggot and sword, but the 
weapons of warfare are severe — intellectual weapons, 
scorn, sarcasm, contempt, reproof. Many have turned 
aside from the Church, and have fallen into the flood 
of infidelity; many still remain, but are as the Phar- 
isees upholding the doctrines and teachings of the- 
ology, still crying, "We have Abraham as our 



204 WOMAN IN THE REFORMATION. 

father;" some remain, but as the Papist, glorifying 
the deeds of his hands, and calling upon them to 
bear witness to his piety. The man or woman who 
looks into the Word — looks prayerfully and under the 
Spirit's guidance — and there finds Christ speaking to 
the soul, and thus listening to his voice enters the 
kingdom, is a subject in the great Republic of God, 
loyal and true — these are they who bring the new 
Reformation. Such a spirit in the Church would 
drive out error, and bring in that living impulse from 
Christ that would reach out to all seeking, destitute 
souls. 

Wherever a human soul receives the truth, and 
dares stand up for it as revealed to him, through the 
Spirit, apart from all dogma or teaching, there is a 
true Reformation hero — a soul that is known of Him. 
The truth comes to all, and to each it is given to 
stand erect in the truth. In this day of trial, we too 
may reveal the same strength and beauty of soul 
which we love in these brave hearts of the Reforma- 
tion. 



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